


Savior Unwound

by Zeledus



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adoption, Alternate Universe, Anal Sex, Bonding, Dark, Dark Harry, M/M, Minor Character Death, Oral Sex, Possessive Behavior, Rimming, Violence
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-02-10
Updated: 2013-07-21
Packaged: 2017-11-28 21:14:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Underage
Chapters: 9
Words: 24,849
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/678952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Zeledus/pseuds/Zeledus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Instead of trying to kill Harry Potter, Tom Riddle kidnaps him and raises him to be the most powerful Dark Wizard the world has ever seen. Harry and Tom have a secret though, and it could bring disaster beyond imagination to those who fight against them.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Hesitancy

**Author's Note:**

> The plot of this story is quite different from the books, and it will be revealed along the way, so please bear with me. There will be a good deal of flashbacks, and I'm not going to write "flashback", so pay attention. I've never written Tom Riddle before, or Dark Harry, so hopefully my characterization will be on par with my other work. Harry is 16 at the beginning of this story, Tom is 43, but appears to be around 20.
> 
> "Speech."  
>  _-Parseltongue.-_
> 
> Also; come check out my blog. It's exclusively for my fanfiction. You can come ask me questions, submit requests, etc.  
> [my tumblr](https://www.tumblr.com/blog/zeledus)
> 
> Update: The last chapter of this story will be coming, I promise!

Harry sliced at the air with his wand, crying out with the force of the spell. The sparks cut a deep gash into the practice dummy in front of him, pushing it back several feet. Harry growled in frustration, sending another, more furious spell. It knocked back a couple more feet. He sent another, and another.

"Sectumsempra!" He hissed so vehemently that the dummy went flying into the wall with a deafening crack.

"Merlin, Potter, what's got your knickers in a twist?" Harry spun on the familiar voice and spat out an answer.

"Shut it, Malfoy!" Draco merely raised an eyebrow, his eyes moving from Harry's furious face, to the destroyed dummy against the wall. He would never admit it, but Harry scared him sometimes with the power of his spells. He imagined that was why the Dark Lord doted on him so much...well...and for other reasons he dared not breathe tell of.

"My, my. Let me guess, Bella can't keep her hands to herself, eh?" From the look on Harry's face, he knew he had hit the nail on the head. Harry had never directly told Draco anything of the sort, but it was obvious to anyone with half a brain cell that Harry was utterly stricken with the Dark Lord. Not in the same way all his followers were, but in a much more intense and quite frankly, disturbing way. Draco wasn't sure if the Dark Lord realized it or not, but it wouldn't surprise him if he did.

Anyone in the Manor could tell you about how Harry and the Dark Lord acted. Many called Harry his lap dog, but this would be untrue. The Dark Lord treated Harry as an equal, and frequently made exceptions for him. They had an almost intimate relationship that made Draco uncomfortable to witness. He could see that Harry wanted more, and guessed that The Dark Lord did as well. Whatever was keeping them back was unknown to him, but what he did know was that it drove Harry insane with jealousy and rage. Especially when Bellatrix hung all over The Dark Lord.

"I swear one day I'll grab her kinky hair and fucki-"

"Calm down, Potter. Would you want Daddy Dearest to see you throwing a tantrum?" Harry looked as if he were going to murder Draco. He hated it when Draco called The Dark Lord his father. He assumed because Harry wanted The Dark Lord in ways that were completely un-fatherly.

"Malfoy..." Draco held his hands up in mock surrender, turning on his heel to saunter out of the room. Harry watched him go, taking deep breaths before throwing a spell at the dummy.

"Repairo." He turned to leave, knowing he should be in the meeting he had stormed so unceremoniously out of. He knew Tom wouldn't be angry, but it would displease him. He stopped short, finding another figure in the room. He didn't know how he did that, sneaking up behind him without so much as a rustle of robes. He leaned calmly against the wall, his scarlet eyes fixed on Harry intently. Many feared those eyes, but Harry found himself trembling with pleasure as they roamed over him.

Tom took in Harry, his face flushed with anger and his entire body taut with tension. He wasn't sure if that was from his presence or from his rage. He could never tell with Harry. It seemed to Tom as if he were afraid of him, as he had right to be, but it also seemed he could never be close enough to Tom. Their relationship was a strange one, there was no doubt. They shared a deep connection, and Tom felt a compelling desire to own Harry, to claim him. In any other situation he would. However...

"Sorry I stormed out." Harry said, looking sincerely repentant. He liked that about Harry. He was sorry to displease him simply because it displeased him, and not because he was afraid Tom would crucio him.

"You shouldn't let a cur like Bellatrix spike your temper." Tom replied. Harry nodded.

"I know. But she acts as if she has the right to touch you, it's disgusting."

"And you do have the right to touch me?" Tom asked, cocking his head to the side slightly and looking over Harry's expression carefully. Harry had lived with Tom since he had been a baby, and yet he could always surprise him. Surprise showed on his face momentarily until he schooled it away carefully.

"Only if you desire me to, my Lord." He replied. Tom's lips quirked into a smirk, he raised a hand and beckoned Harry to him. Harry swallowed thickly. He should be used to this, but it always affected him just as badly every time. He stopped just in front of Tom. Thin fingers hooked under his chin and raised his face toward him. Emerald met scarlet eyes, and Harry tried not to get lost in them.

Tom ran a delicate finger down Harry's face, savoring how Harry's breathing quickened.

 _-I am Tom to you.-_ He whispered, not for the first time. Harry leaned into the touch, his hand circling Tom's bicep seemingly of it's own accord. His whole body ached to lean into Tom's, press against him and drink him in. It made his chest hurt with an emptiness, it made all of his blood rush downward.

Tom's mouth brushed against his ear, _-And I desire you to touch me. You are the only one worthy of it.-_ Harry bit his lip to hold back a moan, his fingers tightening around Tom's arm. There was a whisper of a nip to his ear and the Tom was moving away, leaving Harry breathless and aching.

"We should return before my worthless bunch of Death Eaters kill each other." He said, his hand gripping Harry's face and running a thumb over the bitten lower lip. He took in it's redness and wanted for what seemed like the thousandth time to claim those lips. He controlled himself, though it seemed to get more difficult each time.

Harry nodded, taking Tom's hand in his and pulling it from his face gently. His hand lingered on Tom's for a moment, before he reluctantly stepped back and let go. He was thankful he was wearing robes right then, and did his best to ignore the effects of Tom on his body.

 

* * *

 

When Tom and Harry returned to the meeting room, they were thankful to find all of the Death Eaters alive. It wasn't so rare for them to kill each other. Harry wondered why Tom kept them around, really. They were so stupid. Tom had explained they were numbers, and they were willing to die. Still, Harry could barely stand the idiocy sometimes. They had even gone to school, and Harry, who had been taught everything he knew by Severus, Lucius and Tom, excelled above them.

"Is ickle Potter done throwing his fit?" Bellatrix crooned, pouting her lips out at him. Harry drew his wand so fast it was a blur, pressing the tip against the woman's cheek.

"I would not test my temper right now, Bella." He hissed. The mocking smile slid off her face and she narrowed her eyes, jerking away from him.

"You need to control your pet better, My Lord." She sneered.

"Enough." Tom demanded, turning his gaze to Bellatrix.

"I have warned you enough. Do not insult your superiors." Bellatrix gasped, looking scandalized.

"Surely you don't mean that brat, he's-"

"Far better a wizard than you shall ever be." Tom snapped.

"Now, sit down, before I punish you for your insolence." Bellatrix sat, sneering at Harry as he took his seat to the right of Tom.

"As I was saying earlier, I fear Albus Dumbledore has become aware of Harry's presence here. Severus?" The man leaned forward.

"Yes, My Lord. I have heard bits of conversation regarding Harry. The headmaster has not confided in me, but I am certain I can manage to get him to talk. He trusts me. How would you like me to proceed?"

"Give him no indication that you have seen or know of Harry being here. However, do not give the impression that it is impossible." Severus nodded, sitting back in his chair. Tom turned his gaze to the rest of the people sitting at the table, his red eyes almost lazy, though retaining the feeling that they were piercing you. Harry saw some of them shift under his gaze. He almost sneered at their weakness. Surely Tom affected him more, and he had the willpower to at least meet his gaze and hold his ground.

"However I wonder how Dumbledore was made even suspicious of Harry being here." His voice was soft, but several people shivered at the sound of it. His eyes locked on Bellatrix, sulking like a child in her chair.

"It is unfortunate isn't it? Perhaps they will get their hands on him, My Lord. What will you do then? When the light has their precious savior back?" She asked, her voice savoring the words. She liked the idea, she smiled in mock sympathy, twirling her finger in her black curly hair.

Tom's teeth gritted, his face tightening and his eyes flashing. His wand whipped out in a second, and then Bellatrix was tumbling from her chair onto the floor. She thrashed, screaming shrilly for a few seconds before Tom released the curse. All eyes were on her, a mixture of pity, disgust and amusement. She panted against the floor, pushing herself up weakly onto her knees. She looked up at The Dark Lord and Harry waited for the familiar pleading and whining. But this time she said something else.

"He'll never love you like I do, My Lord. I can see the way he looks at you, the way he keens for your touch. He dares to love you like an equal when you should be worshipped!" The entire room was silent, the air thick in the wake of what everyone knew but would never dare say. That Harry Potter was in love with The Dark Lord.

Harry stared at her, his fingers gripping the arms of his chair until his knuckles went white. His eyes flew to Tom. The Dark Lord looked surprised. His scarlet eyes moved to Harry's. They shared a look, one so riddled with emotion that it left Harry breathless. They moved back to Bellatrix then, the surprise gone and replaced with a deep anger that made Bellatrix shrink back in fear.

"You dare speak of him like that in my presence?" He started, standing from his chair and taking a step toward her. He kneeled, looking dangerously calm as he gripped her hair and yanked viciously on it. He leaned in close and whispered. Harry was the only one close enough to hear what was said and it nearly sent a flush over his cheeks.

"He is the only one worthy enough to love me. You are simply a servant, dear Bella. Do not delude yourself with notions that you come anywhere close to Harry Potter. He is far above worship. You would do well to remember it." He let her hair go with a jerk, as if she disgusted him. She fell forward, her body wracking with what sounded like a sob. Tom stood and slammed his hand down on the table.

"Would anyone else like to insult me?" He hissed. No one said a word.

"Out. Out of my sight, all of you." The Death Eaters cleared the room, none of them stopping to help Bellatrix to her feet. She was the last to leave, sending Harry a look of pure hatred as she limped from the room.

The door clicked shut, and then Harry and Tom were alone. Harry had not moved since Bellatrix had started talking. He watched Tom as he slowly started to relax, the anger fading from white-hot to a simmering glow. His hand joined his other one on the table and he leaned against it for a long moment.

"Tom..."

 _-There is no need to explain, Harry.-_ Tom hissed softly, slipping into Parseltongue. Harry opened his mouth to say something, but shut it as soon as Tom turned to him. He walked to him, his hand moving to run through his hair. Harry couldn't help but lean into the touch of his hand, his eyes closing. When he opened his eyes, Tom was looking at him differently. As if he were seeing Harry for the first time. Harry's lips parted softly, and Tom's eyes were drawn directly down to them. He swallowed thickly, leaning forward until their lips brushed together.

 _-I cannot. I'm sorry, I cannot.-_ He breathed, pulling away and leaving the room.

 

* * *

 

A ten year old Harry sat in the middle of a large library, it's dark green floors and walls making his large eyes seem luminous in the early evening light that poured in through the ceiling to floor windows along the wall in front of him. In his lap lay a large tome bound in dark leather. It's pages were marked with strange, swirling symbols, but he could read it as if it were English.

He read carefully, drinking in as much of it as he possibly could. He knew Tom would quiz him on everything he was supposed to learn today, which had been the first hundred pages of the book in his lap. He was currently on page 120, but he was so absorbed that he barely noticed that he was ahead of what he needed to read. His eyes moved across the page, his fingers playing with a locket at his throat that he had worn since he was old enough to be safe with something around his neck. It felt heavy and safe in his hand, it's familiar pulsing - like a heart beat - calming him as he took in the Dark magic from the book.

The book was written in Parseltongue, something Harry could read, speak, write, and understand ever since he could remember. Sometimes he could barely tell the difference between English and Parseltongue, but he was beginning to be able to distinguish them. Tom spoke to him almost always in Parseltongue.

"You are ahead, Harry." A soft voice said from behind him. A jolt of pure joy shot through Harry, but he tried not to show it. He turned, Tom was standing against a bookshelf, his smooth, youthful face beautiful in the light.

"I lost track of where I was." Harry replied. Tom smiled, walking toward him slowly. He kneeled beside Harry, looking over him to the book he was reading. His thin, delicate fingers trailed over the aged text. Harry watched them with fascination, and even at ten years old, he noticed how very beautiful Tom's hands were. Like the rest of him. Tom's red eyes slid from the page to Harry's face, and not for the first time, Harry felt as if he could sense exactly what he was thinking.

"You should not push yourself, dear Harry." Those fingers traced his jaw, down his neck. Harry nodded, trembling slightly from his touch. He had always reacted this way to Tom, and he knew he always would. As if Tom's touch reached down into his very soul, caressing his inner-most being. Lovingly and cruelly penetrating him until he was unsure whether he was still Harry, or if Tom was a part of him as much as any of his organs.

"I'm sorry."

"Don't apologize for your own greatness, Harry. Now, why don't you tell me what you learned today."

 

* * *

 

Harry sat unmoving as Tom left him in the room. He had to remind himself to breathe. Tom's mouth had been so close, he had almost pressed his lips against his. The mere thought of kissing Tom left an ache in his entire being. He had apologized, Tom never did that, he had said he could not. Could not kiss him? Harry's head was a whirlwind of emotion and thoughts.

Just as he had been unable to move before, he was unable to sit still now. He got up from his chair and left, heading for the nearest exit. He burst from the Manor with a sharp intake of breath, taking in the chilly air with relief. He was in the garden now, blocked off from the rest of the land around them by large stone walls.

He could hear the faint trickling of the fountain and moved toward it, his footsteps loud in the silence of the garden. He sat on the edge of the fountain and dipped his hand into the water. Here in the garden he let his emotions run, let his mask fall.

What would Tom think of him after what Bellatrix had said? Would he believe her, and would he draw away from Harry if he knew the truth? That Harry really was in love with Tom. He sighed, in love was not even the beginnings of what Harry felt for Tom Riddle. He felt as if they were the same person. As if Tom was the very core of his being. Love was an insufficient word.

Could Tom even feel the same way about him? Harry closed his eyes, remembering every touch Tom had ever given him. Harry wanted to think he touched him like that because he cared for him. Because he felt the same heart-wrenching desire to be close to him. But he had no idea if that was true. Tom was all ice, and while Harry knew he showed him parts of himself he showed no one else, he still felt as if he barely knew him at all.

He wanted to know him. Wanted to understand every bit of his mind. But he never could. Tom touched him like a lover, yet never let him close enough to be a lover. Tom trusted Harry more than anyone he'd ever known. But it wasn't enough.

 

* * *

 

Tom gripped his hair and felt like screaming. What was Harry doing to him? How could that boy get under his skin like that. How could he make him want him so much? He had always been gentle with him, he treasured Harry Potter above all things. But he had never expected to...to...

No. He could not admit it, or it would become true. He could not love Harry Potter.


	2. Dreams

In the hushed silence of the night, two men dreamed. The dreams were different, but strangely woven together.

_Harry was walking down the corridor of the Manor, his fingers whispering along the cool wall. He was bare of clothing, and he was looking for something, but he had no idea what it was._

_Tom watched a dark-haired boy in a mirror, his lithe body squirming and reaching for him, his name on his lips like a prayer._

_The wallpaper in the corridor peeled away at Harry's touch, and under it Tom's name was written in blood._

_The mirror shattered, the glass piercing Tom's face. Blood trickled down his face and mixed with tears Tom didn't feel. In the shards at his feet, he could see Harry's face._

* * *

 

Harry awoke with a start, panting heavily as flashes of his dream rushed through his head. He held his head in his hands and focused on breathing. He could see Tom's name in blood as if it was burned into his mind. He rubbed his eyes and picked up his wand.

"Lumos." He slid of out bed and walked across his bedroom. It hadn't changed all that much since he had started living here. It was large and cool, the floor uncarpeted, but laid with stone like the garden. He loved the way the stones felt against the bottoms of his feet. When he was younger he would trace the stones as he read, or simply day-dreamed. His walls were a light gray, his bed dressed in emerald and silver. He reached his door and opened the almost black wood door. The silver knob was cold in his hand and he shivered.

The Dark Lord's door stood directly in front of him. Harry paused, unsure if he would be welcome in Tom's room. He had never sent him away before, but after what had happened, he wasn't so sure anymore. He took a deep breath and walked to the door, knocking politely.

Tom's eyes snapped open as he woke. He almost expected to see shards of mirror laying at the side of his bed, but of course, there wasn't any such thing. He stared at the floor from his position on his side, his mind running over the dream like water. Harry even haunted him in his dreams. His lips tingled with the memory from earlier that day. He had been so close, centimeters, from Harry's sweet lips. He had wanted to claim them. He had wanted to plunder Harry's mouth and devour his body, but...

There was a knock at the door. Harry. It could be no one else. No one else would dare come near his door. Harry's and his room were the only rooms occupied on this half of the manor. It was protected by so many spells it would make Dumbledore's head spin.

He got up from bed gracefully, pulling the door open to look down at the face of Harry Potter. He was half naked, wearing only a pair of green cotton pants. His eyes roved over his body, and then back up to his eyes.

"I...had a bad dream." Harry said, his mouth slightly dry. Tom was dressed like him, only in cotton pants, only his were black, and they hung dangerously low on his hips. He couldn't help but look, and his fingers twitched with the desire to touch him. Tom's face was unguarded, lacking it's coldness. He was beautiful.

"Come inside, Harry." Tom said, stepping back to let the thin boy slip by into the dark room. Tom's room was even larger than Harry's, split into an office-type area, a small private library, a place for potion making, his bedroom area, and an area with a fire place. A large bathroom was connected. It was dark, the only light shining through sheer black curtains that covered a floor to ceiling window. The window seat at that window was one of Harry's favorite places to be, and held some of his dearest memories.

Tom's bed was huge, larger than a California King. It was dressed in black, like everything in Tom's room really, save some dark reds. It was placed on a dais, the covers pushed back from when Tom had gotten up from bed.

Tom turned to Harry, placing large hands on either side of his face. Harry looked up at him, feeling both comforted and nervous from his touch.

 _-What was your dream about, dear one?-_ Tom asked softly. Harry shivered, both from the Parseltongue, which, no matter how much Tom and he spoke in, still did wicked things to him, and because of the endearment. Tom used them sometimes, but mostly only when he was comforting Harry, or when he was being particularly...close to him.

He never had, or probably ever would, understand the relationship they had. Most would describe it as disturbingly intimate. It was intense, and it was complicated. They were not friends, nor lovers. It was far too intimate to be that of a father and son relationship. It was as if they could barely stand to be apart. Like they were two halves of the same person...

 _-It was about you. I was walking down the hall, and the wallpaper peeled away and your name was written in blood on the wall.-_ Tom hummed softly, his thumbs moving over Harry's cheeks gently. As usual, Harry's eyes slid shut under his touch, sighing softly.

_-I dreamt of you too. I looked into a mirror and I saw you, but the mirror broke and cut my face, and I saw your face in the shards at my feet.-_

_-You saw me? What was I doing?-_

_-Unspeakable things, Harry. Beautiful, unspeakable things.-_ Harry's face flushed freely, his hands rising to cover Tom's on his face.

_-My Lord...-_

_-It is Tom, for you.-_ Harry swallowed thickly, looking up at scarlet eyes through his eyelashes shyly.

 _-Why won't you kiss me?-_ He asked so softly, he wondered if Tom would hear it. He almost hoped he wouldn't, but Tom heard, and his fingers tightened around his face briefly. Then they were tilting his head up. Harry's heart stopped, his eyes hesitating before snapping up and locking on Tom's. He came close to his face again, and Harry thought maybe this time, he would kiss him.

 _-I am afraid you will unhinge my soul.-_ He replied, stepping back and taking Harry's hand. He led him to the bed and pulled him down, wrapping him possessively in his arms.

 _-Sleep, beautiful Harry-_ He whispered, his hand smoothing down Harry's dark hair.

 _-Tom...-_ He murmured, already half lulled to sleep by the comfort of Tom's arms, the steady heart beat against his back, and his scent, so sweet...he fell asleep before he could say what he had wanted so badly to say. I love you.

_-I know, Harry...I know.-_

* * *

 

The man known as The Dark Lord looked down at the infant in his arms. He could have given the child to a death eater, but he took him himself. This was the baby who was supposed to destroy him someday, his equal. His big emerald eyes gazed up at him serenely. He didn't even cry, even in the wake of his parent's murders. Tom ran a finger over the boy's forehead and around his baby soft cheek. He would raise this child, and he would make him more powerful than Dumbledore could ever imagine.

 

* * *

 

Harry woke slowly. He was deliciously warm, thin rays of light setting the insides of his eye-lids aglow. He tried to turn over and found he couldn't. He opened his eyes and met ivory skin and thin trail of dark hair. He inhaled sharply, peering up into the sleeping face of Tom Riddle. He smiled softly. He looked so peaceful when he slept.

It was wonderful, being held so closely to Tom. He had slept in Tom's bed before, had even fallen asleep in his arms before, but he either woke on the other side of the bed, or Tom was gone by the time he woke up.

He wrapped his arms around him and inhaled his scent. He moaned softly, basking in the warmth and the feeling of being held by Tom. However much he loved it though, it caused the ache in his heart to increase. He was close to Tom now, but he could never be as close as he wanted to be. He remembered what Tom had said to him last night...

_-I am afraid you will unhinge my soul.-_

What did he mean? Unhinge his soul...he looked up as Tom shifted, his eyes opening slowly. The color of Tom's eyes had always entranced him. Such a beautiful scarlet red. They gazed at each other for a suspended moment, and then Tom's hand moved across Harry's bare back, little whispering touches that made Harry want to simply melt into Tom and never move. His fingers brushed through his unruly hair, across his cheek and stopped at his lips. Harry's lips parted of their own accord, longing for the press of Tom's.

 _-It would be so easy...unbearably easy...-_ He hissed softly. Harry wasn't sure what he meant, exactly, but slowly, softly, he kissed the fingertips on his mouth. They slipped between his lips slightly, warm and delicately smooth. His eyes dropped briefly, and then they snapped back to Tom's.

His expression was infuriatingly, frighteningly unreadable. He looked a little shocked, a little aroused, and a little...scared.

 _-You are going to be the death of me...-_ He said, though he didn't look exactly angry. Just, wary. While he had been so open, so intimate before, his expression closed off like a slammed door. He removed his fingers and rolled away from Harry, moving across the large room to throw open his wardrobe. It was a clear dismissal. Harry swallowed, distinctly feeling that he had ruined something. He got out of bed and padded as softly as he could to the door.

"Harry." He stopped and looked back. Tom was staring straight into his wardrobe, as if he couldn't look at him. There was a painful pang in Harry's chest at that.

"Yes, my Lord?" He couldn't help it, the title simply slipped out.

 _-Tom-_ He gently reminded, easing Harry's worry a little. If he had been truly upset with him, he wouldn't have corrected him at all.

"Tom." Harry amended, hovering near the door.

"There is a raid tonight. I want you to come with me." Harry blinked in surprise. He wanted him to come with him? Even when Dumbledore was becoming suspicious? He would be wearing a mask, naturally, but nonetheless.

"I care not about Dumbledore. Your training is important and I will not put it on hold simply because he fancies "saving" you from me." Tom replied, as if he had read Harry's mind. Harry nodded, twisting the door knob.

"Oh, and Harry?" He stopped again.

"I'm not upset with you." Harry smiled toward the door, his heart fluttering strangely. He left.

 

* * *

 

Tom's hand closed over a thirteen year old Harry's with a gentle firmness. His chest was as hard as iron against his back, muscles rippling under a deceivingly thin torso. He pressed right up against him, his mouth near his ear, murmuring instructions. He guided Harry's wand arm up to chest level.

"Keep your arm elevated and straight, but don't lock your elbow, keep your whole body relaxed, but always poised to attack. Tense, ready, but look as if you could be taking a stroll. It throws your opponents off, makes them self-conscious because you seem calm, confident. Fighting is not all spells and footwork, it's mental. Run mental circles around them, and then when they are completely unhinged...strike."

His other hand was on Harry's shoulder, a strong thumb rubbing circles into his back. Harry slowly relaxed, though with the heat of Tom behind him, it was exceedingly difficult. He was eager to please him, though, and so he loosened himself up, focusing on the spell he was trying to master, poising his wand.

"And now, aim..." Tom bent his wrist, so the wand pointed directly at the target.

"Conjure the desire, the will to cast..." Harry concentrated. He wanted to cast this spell, he wanted to please Tom...

"And execute." Tom's hand moved away, and took a step back. Harry's wand went flying, swirling and jabbing the air with a determined precision.

"Adustum!" He snapped out the incantation, steadying himself as a fiery basilisk roared from his wand. He willed it forward, watched as it incinerated the dummy in the blink of an eye.

"Consto Ignis" The basilisk went out as if doused in water. Harry let out a heavy breath, lowering his wand. A hand rested in his hair and he turned, his chest swelling with joy as he saw the look of utter pride on Tom's face.

"Congratulations Harry, you are officially the only thirteen year old to ever cast Fiendfyre successfully." He told him. Harry couldn't help but smile a little bit, letting Tom's approval fill him with a warmth like no other.

 

* * *

 

Harry cast a mild sticking charm on his mask, settling it over his face as Death Eaters on each side of him did the same. His mask was a dull silver color, conformed to his face closely. It was delicately shaped, high cheekbones and thin, curving slits for his eyes. The nose was long and pointed, thin. The mouth was thin as well, curving upward into a disturbing smile. The silver patterns twisted around his eyes and across his cheeks, snakes. When he turned his head, if the lighting was right, they flashed an emerald green. His was the only mask with color, and the only one with patterns that displayed snakes other than Tom. It was a status symbol, and protection, more than Death Eater regalia.

Harry wasn't a Death Eater anyway, he didn't have the mark on his arm. He was bound to Tom in a way deeper and stronger than any Death Eater could ever be.

Tom walked silently to his side, wearing a mask almost identical to his own. It was a blacker metal, and his patterns flashed scarlet. They both wore completely black clothing, close fitting pants, black button-up shirts, dragon-hide boots. No robes because they got in the way. Harry stowed his wand in a wrist holster, ready to flick out at a moment's notice.

"Attention." Tom said, not even raising his voice. Every single Death Eater in the room went silent, turning to face The Dark Lord. He looked across the lot of them, a swarm of metal masks and black clothing.

"Keep in mind the goal. Protect Harry Potter with your life, and kill when you need to." He said, nodding. They began disapparating in groups. Harry and Tom waited until they had all gone, and then Tom laid a hand on his shoulder and they were twisting and flying through space.

The house of Amelia Bones was still when the Death Eaters arrived. They silently surrounded the house, waiting for The Dark Lord to arrive. Harry and Tom appeared before the front of the house, stepping apart according to plan. Harry pointed his wand into the air, hissing a spell.

"Morsmordre!" Immediately after, spells began to fly from the wands of every Death Eater. The windows shattered, cracking like muggle gunshot. Harry and Tom moved forward, the door snapping open violently and hitting the wall, knocking a picture of Amelia Bones, and a girl with a braid down her back, to the floor with a bang. Tom and Harry cast spells as they walked through the house, more for the noise and shock factor than anything else.

As they reached the stairs, a woman in a robe appeared, a wand held confidently in her hand. She seemed to be shaking, but her eyes were fiercely focused and her hand steady as she pointed it toward them.

"My dear Amelia, do you really think that is wise?" Tom drawled, politely, as if he weren't about to kill her.

"Susan!" She screamed, never taking her eyes off of them. "Go to the fireplace, call Dumbledore! Now!" They could hear footsteps, running, and Tom shook his head mournfully, tutting.

"That was a very grave mistake, Madam." He said calmly, before his wand whipped out and a spell went flying. They began to duel, Amelia surprisingly putting up quite a fight. Tom jerked his head toward the room where the girl, Susan, must be. Harry disapparated, appearing at the top of the stairs. He ducked quickly to the side, missing a streak of gold. He ran to the rooms off to the side, catching glimpses of fire from the yard. Stupid Death Eaters.

He barged into a room, seeing a girl frantically yelling through the fireplace.

"-Voldemort! Hurry!"

"Fuck!" Harry cursed, running forward and grabbing her by the back of the hair, dragging her from the fireplace and throwing her down on the ground and pinning her down by the neck.

"What did you do, you stupid girl?" He growled.

"I called Dumbledore! Now you'll be sorry!" She yelled, squirming in his grasp. Her words were confident, but tears shined at the corners of her fearful eyes. He growled in frustration, getting to his feet and leaving the room hastily, not even looking back at the girl.

"We've got company!" He yelled, jumping over the banister and landing in the front hall again. He was surprised to see Amelia was still fighting, she looked ragged, and he would win soon, but it might be too late. He flew out the door, sending vicious spells at the ground in front of the Death Eaters.

"Hey! Stop fooling around, the old coot's on his way!" As if on cue, loud cracking noises resounded. Aurors were suddenly on them, throwing wimpy light spells that were more annoying than anything. And right there in the middle was Dumbledore. A flaring hatred blossomed in his chest and before he knew it they were shooting spells at each other.

He was good, Harry could barely get a spell in edgewise, but he was not going to let this old man leave alive.

"Come now, you seem young, you can turn back..." Dumbledore said, in that infuriatingly calm, patronizing voice.

"Don't you dare give me that bullshit, old man." Harry growled.

"Sectumsempra!" It struck true, but not where Harry had intended. It lashed along his shoulder, sending him stumbling backward.

"I don't want to do this." Dumbledore warned, as if that would stop him.

"Yeah, well I do!" His wand slashed the air furiously, but Dumbledore was blocking him now, moving back. Harry was slowing him though, he was losing energy, and he would soon have him, if he could just...

Something ran directly into him, knocking him backwards and onto the ground, jarring his head painfully. He hissed, shooting an almost careless killing curse at the Auror, watching as he fell to the ground. He pushed himself up, and watched as his mask fell to the ground, loosened by his impact. Dumbledore's eyes widened.

"Harry..." He said softly, and then he yelled it. "Harry! Harry Potter!" Someone grabbed him, before he could even react. He looked around, what the hell? Where were the Death Eaters? The last things he saw before it all went black was Bellatrix waving giddily, and Tom storming from the house with a vengeance. And then he was gone.


	3. Prophecy

Harry was dreaming. He knew he was dreaming. But it all felt jarringly, sickeningly real.

_Harry fell to the frozen cold ground, glass spheres the size of his fist smashing near his face, sinking viciously into his flesh, his eyes. A haunting voice spoke in the background, echoing, lost. The words cut in and out, like the shards in his skin._

_"The Dark Lord will mark him as his equal..."_

_Harry's hands searched, felt for his face, but it was all pain now. Blinding, red, searing, roaring pain._

And then it was gone. The dream was gone. And he was opening his eyes. There was an unfamiliar ceiling above him, dark and cross-hatched with shadows. He blinked, turning his head to the side. Dark wall. The other side, dark wall. It was all dark, and completely unfamiliar. The smell was oddly familiar though...

He sat up, the blankets gathering at his waist. His head throbbed dully. As he sat he noticed that his mask was laying on a side table next to a candle, shining a metallic, subtle green. That struck him as odd, that someone like Dumbledore would have left his mask there. He checked his wrist, his wand was securely in it's holster.

Harry swung his legs from the bed, confused, and lifted his mask from the table. He didn't need it, they knew who he was now, but he felt safer with it. It had been a gift from Tom, after all. He moved toward the door, still in his shoes, as well, he noted. The entire - house? - was quiet. Maybe he could slip out. He could feel disapparation wards, as well as some others, and decided not to risk anything.

He cracked the door open, listening. Nothing. He slipped out, walking silently down the hall toward a light that descended down a stair case. The hall was the same as the room, dull, dark. It all looked rather unlived in. The stairs creaked beneath his feet, sounding incredibly loud in the stillness of the house.

At the end of the staircase, the front door loomed invitingly. But there was someone in the room to his left, he could feel it. He froze, swallowing thickly. Damn. Slowly he turned his head, making out the figure sitting next to the fire, holding a glass. It was...Severus. Harry's first reaction was traitor. But that was illogical. Dumbledore was no where to be seen. There were no Aurors, he hadn't been imprisoned, and he still had his wand. And Severus was a spy, he had been working for Dumbledore tonight, but he hadn't brought him to Dumbledore. He had rescued him instead.

He stopped in the doorway of the room, and Severus turned to look at him.

"I see you are well, Mr. Potter." He commented. Harry stared at him.

"You took me back here. You were working for Dumbledore and you betrayed him. He'll know..."

"It is what I had to do. I was given explicit orders to protect your life no matter what, and while Dumbledore wouldn't have killed you, you would have been as good as dead. You are far more important than any information my double agency could provide."

Harry nodded. He knew this of course. He knew that Tom had raised him since infanthood to become, by name, the next Dark Lord. His right hand man. His partner, really. He had told him what Dumbledore wanted from him. That he believed Harry was the only one able to defeat Tom, according to some prophecy. He wanted a poster child for the light, he wanted Harry to fight his war for him.

Harry thought it was ridiculous, of course. Though Tom had taken some of it seriously, at least. That's why he was here in the first place. Because the prophecy had named Harry Tom's equal, and anyone as powerful as Tom should be on Tom's side.

"What now? They know I'm with Tom now, they know I'm alive." He said, sitting down in the seat across from Severus'.

"Then we have no secrets anymore. They will try to manipulate you any way they can to move you to their side, but The Dark Lord will not allow it."

"Does he know I'm here?"

"Yes. He should arrive shortly, I believe."

The was a prompt crack, and Harry's heart jumped. He turned toward the doorway, feeling his presence before he even saw the angular face, the piercing red eyes, and the outright fury in his expression. Harry stared, his mouth going dry. Surely he wasn't angry at him. Tom stalked toward him, and though he was afraid, Harry didn't move.

Tom's hands came toward him, and Harry winced slightly, but they didn't strike out at him, instead, they grabbed him and pulled him into a vicious embrace. Harry gasped softly. Tom was...hugging him. The man's face buried into Harry's neck, and Harry snapped out of his shock and held him in return. It was a hard, desperate, emotion-filled embrace, and Harry flushed slightly to know that Severus was watching. Tom didn't seem to care.

 _-Harry...-_ It was just his name, but in that one word, Tom spoke volumes to him. Harry breathed out, his heart skipping a beat at all that was said in just his name. They stood there for a moment, Tom just holding him as if he were about to disappear. When they pulled apart, Tom's hands smoothed over his face, turning his head to each side as if checking for injuries. When he was finished he stepped back, a cold mask slipping into place as he turned to Severus.

They had a conversation, Severus looking uncomfortable but doing his best to hide it. He was very good at it, being a spy, but it was clear to Harry and Tom that Severus was wondering what exactly went on between them. Tom acting as if nothing had happened. As if the darkest lord in history hadn't just hugged a sixteen year old boy as if his life depended on it.

They talked quickly of Dumbledore, and what they would do now that he was aware of Harry.

"It is obvious you can not return to his service now. It is a loss, but it was worth it for the gain." Tom said, his eyes flickering toward Harry.

"Yes, I had assumed as much. The good news is that he has no idea where you reside, and if we keep Harry close, he shouldn't be able to get a hold of him."

"Yes. I knew I couldn't keep him a secret forever, and I hadn't planned to. I had hoped to wait a bit longer, teach him more." Severus nodded, looking at Harry quickly.

"Is he..."

"Not yet."

Harry had the distinct feeling he was missing something. He looked between them, confused.

"My Lord, you remember what is required?" Severus said, hesitantly, fearful.

"He's not ready." Tom snapped. "I'm not ready, either." He said, quieter. Harry looked over at him, taking in his expression. It was almost...afraid. He blinked, unused to Tom looking anything but confidant and powerful. But more often than usual he had seen this look on Tom's face.

 _-I am afraid you will unhinge my soul.-_ He had looked the same that night. Hesitant, and scared.

"You know there is no other way to do what you desire." Severus said, though Harry was in wonder that he was brave enough to say anything after hearing Tom's tone of voice. Severus didn't seem to act the same as any Death Eater though. Tom trusted him, he realized. He had shown weakness in front of him.

"I am afraid that I have fallen too deep into this, Severus. What if it ruins it, what if it destroys me?"

"It will not, My Lord. I have done much research, I know everything there is to know. If you...care about him, it should only make it stronger. I assure you."

"But this is ancient magic, Severus. Old, strong, magic. How can you be sure?" Tom asked, looking desperate, panicked. He was pacing the room, not even looking at Harry. As if he had forgotten he was even there.

"My Lord, I am sure. I understand your concern. But, and I apologize, you will have to do it eventually, soon, even, to achieve what you wish." This seemed to snap Tom out of it, and he nodded. His eyes met Harry's, remembering he was present. Harry shuddered, feeling as if Tom was looking deep into his soul.

"Yes, yes I know." He whispered.

 

* * *

 

 

"Tom?" Said man looked down, seeing only the top of Harry's small, messy head. He was such a small thing, especially at only six years old. He was thin, short. But he shone so brightly. He looked up at Tom, his green eyes flashing brightly as he clung onto a large tome as if it were a fascinating toy. And to Harry, it was. He loved to learn, and he was far more intelligent and powerful than any of the Death Eaters he had.

"Yes, little one?" He asked patiently, turning in his chair to look down at the child he had been taking care of, honing, training, polishing, for the last six years. He was quite fond of him already.

"What does good and evil mean?" He asked, peering up at him with strangely naive eyes. Sometimes, Tom had to remind himself that Harry was a child. It was difficult, seeing as the boy had such a clarity, a wisdom. And he could also blast his best Death Eaters across the room with a flick of the wand.

This was an interesting question though, one he had been expecting to deal with eventually. But he hadn't expected it so soon. Harry had been raised to accept the dark arts, embrace them, and control them. Tom had never once spoken of them being viewed as bad, or of the light. He had kept Harry sheltered from that, and he had planned on doing so until Harry was old enough to understand the war raging around his ears.

He had underestimated him, though, it seemed. He looked down at the book Harry was holding, and blinked. It was written in Parseltongue. He obviously knew Harry could speak it. As a baby he had spoken in half English and half Parseltongue, and sometimes he switched back and forth by accident. He hadn't learned how to distinguish the two yet. It was amusing, really, if only because it absolutely disturbed his Death Eaters to see a cute little six year old walk around throwing spells and hissing in Parseltongue. Tom found it endearing.

He reached down and plucked Harry up, setting him in his lap and taking the book. He opened it to where Harry had stuck a bookmark, looking down at the page of text. The book discussed the differences in light and dark magic, going into great, complex detail about the structure and creation. Things a six year old shouldn't understand.

"Can you understand this, Harry?"

"Kind of." He said, pointing a small finger to the book. "It's talking about spells and how people make them and how you have to have a reason for a spell to make it work. And all sorts of things I can't really understand that well. But it talks about good and evil. What's that?"

Tom thought about this, thinking of a way to explain the difference between light and dark to a six year old. He was only glad that he was the one to do this instead of Dumbledore, who would corrupt the boy's mind with weak thoughts. Who would turn Harry away from the dark arts by telling him lies about it being 'evil'. Such narrowness should never be imprinted on a child. Especially not this child.

"Harry, I want you to listen to me closely." Tom said, closing the book and setting on his desk. He turned to small boy toward him and looked into his face, gripping his chin firmly with his fingers.

"Ignorant people will try to tell you that there is good magic, and there is bad magic. They say that magic that hurts people is evil. But that is a lie. There is no good and evil, there is only power, and those too weak to seek it. Do you understand, Harry?"

Harry nodded, meeting Tom's eyes seriously. Tom smiled.

"Good."

 

* * *

 

"Damn it!" Sirius Black slammed his hand into the wall, looking absolutely furious. He turned to face Dumbledore, who was sitting serenely at his desk, fingers steepled as he watched Sirius. He looked so calm, and it pissed Sirius off. The Order was gathered in the headmaster's office, joined by the group of Auror's who had attempted to save the life of Amelia Bones that night.

"Why are you so calm? He was there! Harry Potter was there!" Sirius yelled. People fidgeted uncomfortably, watching as he exploded. He looked at them incredulously.

"What is wrong with you?" He asked, flushed with anger.

"Well, Sirius, not to be harsh or anything, but you saw the boy. He didn't exactly look like a prisoner." Moody growled. A couple of people nodded.

"He's been brain washed!" Sirius exclaimed.

"He was wearing a Death Eater mask, he was fighting. He used dark spells. He didn't look brain washed to me. He looked like...like The Dark Lord." Tonks said, looking sickened by the thought of it. Sirius glared at her.

"Only because the monster raised him that way!"

"How do we know it can be fixed then? Why even try?" Tonks asked, looking helpless.

"Because he's my godson and because we need him on our side!" Sirius yelled, slamming his hand into the wall again. He looked to Dumbledore in desperation. The old man looked up, his face showing every one of his years clearly. He looked tired, and deadly serious.

"Sirius is right, and so is everyone else. Harry is...well under Tom's influence. And he is obviously something Tom values. But whatever the boy believes now, we can not allow him to stay under Tom's control. He is young, impressionable, we can return him to our side." Dumbledore said calmly, earning a thankful grin from Sirius.

"Well, what are we going to do about it then?" He asked, stepping forward eagerly. Dumbledore shook his head.

"That I do not know. We do not know where Tom resides, nor whether any information given to us from Severus was correct. "

"That slithery bastard." Sirius muttered. "Then what? We wait around?"

"Yes. We wait. Tom has plans for Harry, and he can not, and will not hide the boy from us forever. One way or another, Harry will come to us."

 

* * *

 

"Severus, I have heard a prophecy."

Tom looked vulnerable to Severus, young and less frightening than he could ever remember seeing him. He paced the room, ruffling his hair. He looked...human. Severus reclined in his chair, looking at him steadily.

"A prophecy, my Lord?"

"About a child. A child born as the seventh month dies to a family that has defied me three times. This child is to be my equal. It says I shall mark him as my equal, and it will have powers that I don't know of. That neither of us can live while the other survives. Severus, what does this mean? It can not possibly mean some...child...will destroy me!"

Severus paled slightly. He had heard Dumbledore talking about this. Never in detail, never directly to him, but he had seemed hopeful. Severus realized that he had hoped this would be the answer to defeating Tom. Severus shook his head, going over what Tom had said.

"My Lord, it's just a prophecy..."

"No! No, Severus! I can not take chances. It's the Potter child. I've thought about it. He's the one! I must kill him..."

Severus' mind was racing, it didn't seem logical, to kill a child who obviously had power enough to defeat the Dark Lord. His equal...That meant he was as powerful as Tom. Powers he doesn't know of...More powerful than Tom, perhaps. Neither can live while the other survives...

This phrase struck him, it didn't sit right with him. At first glance, it meant one had to kill the other. But what if it didn't? What if there was a way for two of them, to really only be one of them? Equals. Partners. Two halves of the same person. Surviving isn't living. They are both surviving, and neither can live if the other one is simply surviving. It was all clear to Severus.

"I don't think you do, my Lord."


	4. Unhinged

Harry had feared that he would have to stay with Severus; after all, the Order knew he was with Tom now. However, to his relief, Tom had decided it was safe enough to take him back to the manor. It was inevitable that this would happen, they would have to find out eventually, and Tom was in no mood to be separated from Harry.

They sat silently in the library together, each in a chair before the fire, a large tome sitting upon their laps. It was three days after the incident with the order, and it would have been relaxing, even normal any other time. If only Harry could focus, if he could pull his thoughts away from Tom. If only he could stop looking at his gorgeous face.

 _-Harry, you are distracted. -_ Tom's voice made the younger boy jump lightly. He was quiet for a moment, staring down at the age-yellowed page.

 _-You have the tendency to cause that in me. -_ He replied softly, only raising his eyes when the feeling of Tom's scarlet gaze forced him to. They stared at each other for a long moment. Harry wondered what Tom would say, or if he would ignore his blatant feelings once more. Harry hadn't exactly been keeping them a secret as of late.

Tom seemed to think very carefully about something, and then with a controlled motion, he closed his book and stood up. Harry gasped softly, his entire body tensing. But Tom didn't move toward him, instead he walked toward the bookshelves. Something shattered a little inside Harry. He had gone too far, Tom was leaving…

Yet, then he was in front of Harry, holding out a thin black leather bound book. Harry met his gaze. He took the book from him gingerly, recognizing it at once. He had seen Tom writing in it, agonizing over it late at night. It felt almost invasive to hold it; like he was holding a piece of Tom in his hands instead.

With trembling fingers he opened it, his throat going dry as he looked down at Tom's perfect hand writing.

He looked at the date at the top of the first page.

_October 31st, 1981_

He swallowed thickly and looked back up at Tom. He had an unreadable expression on his face, but he gave a slow nod to him before leaving the room quietly. Harry sat very still for a moment, aware that he held in his hands something Tom had never shown anyone. It was about him. It was secret. It was going to change everything.

He started to shake, forcing his eyes back down to the page. With dread in his heart, he began to read.

_October 31st, 1981_

_I have begun my most recent plan. The Potters lie dead, and their son lies in my arms. How could I have planned to kill him? Severus has once again amended an unwise decision on my part. The potential in this boy is palpable. It is fortunate he resides with me, for he will be all I have dreamed him to be. I have high hopes for Severus' ingenious fix to the prophecy. I only have to wait until Harry is ready._

Harry took a deep breath. This is what they were discussing the night Severus had saved him from the Order. He flipped through some of the pages, skimming parts of his life that had filled Tom with pride to the point where he had documented it.

_Harry first held a wand today and set Bella's skirt on fire…Harry can levitate the entire dining room table, he's only five…Harry unlocks all the doors when I'm not looking…Harry can read and speak parseltongue perfectly…Harry cast a Patronus at age eleven…Fiendfyre…talent for dark magic unlike any I've ever seen…so much of myself in him…extraordinary…talented…prodigy…so precious…elegant…time is running out, but can I proceed?_

Harry paused, looking down at a particularly scrawling page. Tom seemed upset, unsure. It was odd to be reading his thoughts. He looked at the date and nearly gasped. It was just five days ago.

_Dumbledore is getting suspicious, any day he will find out about Harry being in my possession. Severus is pushing the ceremony but I am hesitant. Ancient magic in finicky and regardless of what Severus says about soul bonding being friendly to romantic feelings, I fear it will compromise the result. I will have no weakness in our bond, and my ridiculous feelings of love can be nothing but weakness. I will ruin all of my own ambitions with this love for Harry Potter._

_But I cannot wait much longer. We are vulnerable while we are apart. Perhaps I should proceed, for any bond, weak as it may be, will protect us from the prophecy being carried out. There is no way back now, and to leave it unfinished…it is painful as it is. Harry and I must not remain two separate people._

Harry stared blankly at the book. He flipped the page to find one sentence.

_I have to tell him._

Harry was suddenly aware of Tom standing behind him. He wondered if he had been there the whole time. He closed the book with a soft thud and placed it on the table beside him. He tried to make himself move further, but he was frozen, his hand curling around the edge of the table. He nearly jumped as a long hand covered his gently.

"Tom…" He whispered, choking on the name slightly. His fingers tightened over Harry's.

"What…I…" He tried to talk, but he found he couldn't. He was reeling. What did this mean?

"It's the only way. The process has already begun. It has been in progress since I first held you in my arms. We are natural partners, Harry. The ancients call this phenomenon Dimidium. In more modern terms, we would be akin to soul mates. It is fortunate, almost too lucky to be coincidence that our bonding will reverse the entire prophecy written about us. Or perhaps carry it out, depending on your perspective. In a way, you are destroying me, Harry. But it is so sweet, I cannot bring myself to care."

Tom moved to face him, kneeling in front of the chair so he could touch Harry's face. His fingertips sent jolts of electricity through Harry's body. He couldn't resist the pull to lean into Tom's touch. It was so good, to feel him. And then once more Tom's face closed in on his and their lips hovered mere centimeters apart. Harry breathed out heavily, his lips parting of their own accord. He could feel the moisture of Tom's breath and ached to feel that mouth on his own.

_-I thought this was a weakness. Even until a couple days ago, I was sure this feeling was going to unhinge me, ruin everything. But I've had a revelation, Harry…we're not made to be two people. When I thought I'd lost you…We're not made to be anything but two halves of the same whole, together, combined, entwined. Connected...-_

Harry's eyes slid shut, his mind fogging over pleasantly. Tom's voice took over every other sense. It made him dizzy in the best possible way; the warmth of his breath, the nearness of him. His words made Harry flush with heat. He ached blissfully. Just as he was leaning inward, unable to stay so far from Tom, the older man beat him to it.

The kiss hit him hard, their lips meshed together with a perfection he never knew existed. A feeling so divine rushed through him all at once. It was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was better than the first time he had used magic, better than flying, better than an orgasm. A desperate, keening moan tore through him and he was finally unfrozen.

His hands flew to Tom's shoulders, his hair, his face. He touched every part of him he could reach, pulling him closer. Even as Tom pulled him off the chair into his lap, their bodies flush together; Harry felt it was not close enough. It would never, ever be close enough. It was true; they were not made to be apart.

It was torture, pure agony, to pull away. Harry gasped for air, staring into Tom's scarlet eyes.

"How? "He breathed, clutching at Tom's arms.

"A spell, of sorts. And consummation. "Harry whined softly, desire slamming into him at the mere word.

 _-Tom…I…I need to…please, my Lord…-_ Harry could not explain, could not comprehend, but he was desperate. It was painful to be only himself. Tom's eyes flashed all effort to conceal his thoughts abandoned. What use was it to hide from himself, after all? It was undeniable that he wanted Harry, that he had wanted him all along.

 

* * *

 

Three days earlier Tom stood silently by the door frame of a room. Inside a delicate boy laid sleeping peacefully. Tom watched him, feeling a sort of hysterical panic build within him, despite the fact that Harry was safe, that he could see his slow breathing. It had been too close. He had almost lost Harry that night.

It surprised him, that he was so panicked about losing Harry. Not because he feared losing power, losing his greatest weapon. No, because he feared Harry's absence in his life. The thought of Harry gone made his stomach turn.

He was leaving Harry vulnerable. He was giving Dumbledore the chance to separate them.

Tom entered the room, moving quietly to sit on the side of the bed. Harry's face was relaxed, long eyelashes splayed over his perfect cheekbones. And those lips, so soft and inviting. It felt like a sin not to kiss them. Tom knew Harry wanted him to. Tom had known the way Harry felt, and that he, himself was just as obsessively in love with Harry, for years.

It was agony, controlling his emotions, willing himself not to touch Harry in all the ways he dreamed of. But until now, it had never been so clear. Love was not a weakness. He leaned down, his thumb brushing lightly over Harry's face, and kissed him tenderly. He had never felt more powerful than in that moment, when he finally admitted that he was in love.

 

* * *

 

 _-Harry, -_ Tom looked up into his face, flushed and desperate. Merlin, he was beautiful.

 _-Tell me how you feel about me. –_ He commanded softly. Harry's face flushed an even deeper color and he suddenly looked away, seeming nervous.

"I…I can't breathe…when you're not around. I crave your touch. I grow hot whenever you look at me, I…dream about you every night. All of my thoughts revolve around you. My heart aches to be close to you, and when I am close to you I shiver with pleasure. When you touch me…I forget everything but that precious touch. And your eyes…" He finally looked back up at him, looking frightened.

"They're the most beautiful thing I've ever seen, besides the rest of you. I fantasize about your voice, and your hands…" He blushed.

"I've never wanted anything, I've never ached so desperately for anything in my life, except for you. I only want to please you, to feel your eyes on me, to be in your presence. I feel so empty, Tom, I can't explain it. I can feel you now, you're so close, but I always want you more." Harry gripped Tom's shoulders, moaning softly as Tom wrapped his arms around his back. He looked up shyly through his eyelashes, his fingers clutching at the fabric of Tom's shirt.

 _-I…I love you, my Lord. -_ He said, his voice so quiet that anyone else would not have heard it. Tom was silent for a moment, but then he spoke softly.

 _-Do you want to know a secret, Harry? –_ He leaned in, his lips hot against Harry's ear.

_-I love you too. –_

It was as if the whole world clicked into place. As if the last piece of a puzzle was finally found after years of staring at an unfinished picture. Everything made sense.

Harry. Tom. Who were those people? Separate people? That didn't exist anymore. Harry was gone. Tom was gone. There was only Harry and Tom. There could be no other possibility.

Harry gasped sharply, his fingers digging into Tom's shoulders even more. Tom was frozen, holding the younger boy as close as he could. Was he holding Harry, or himself? Maybe it was both? They sat there, two different people, but the same person, all at once. Thoughts, memories, feelings, emotions began to flood into their heads, mixing together until they were unsure which memories and which thoughts belonged to whom.

When it calmed, when Harry could breathe properly again, a new feeling smashed into him with a vicious force. How was he sitting here, with Tom, and how were they still not connected? A dull ache began to form in his chest. The empty space that had felt so full, was empty again. They were close, but there was more.

 _-T-tom…-_ He breathed, and then suddenly gasped. Hot lips pressed against his neck, trailing up to his ear where they stopped.

 _-I'll make it go away. I'll fill you until we are so connected, you will never feel empty again. –_ Tom's voice was low, drawling. It made Harry shudder and grow hard against Tom's firm stomach. He whined, pushing his hips against Tom. He felt Tom smile against his ear and then slip his hands under Harry's shirt.

 _-You will be mine, Harry. And I will be yours… -_ His hands moved up his back, trailing his fingertips gently along the soft skin. Harry breathed out heavily, shivering under his touch. His fingers moved around, brushing along Harry's nipples until the younger boy began to moan, bucking against Tom.

_-I'm going to tease you until you can't stand it. I'm going to make you beg, and then I am going to make you feel better than you ever have before. And I'm going to do it to you over and over again, for the rest of our lives.-_

_-Tom!-_ Harry looked frantic, his head thrown back and his pants tight. Tom smiled wickedly, pushing Harry back until he fell back on the soft carpet. He moved over him, tugging the hem of his shirt up. Harry eagerly arched his back, letting Tom toss the fabric away. The older man's hands moved downward then, slowly unfastening Harry's pants.

The young wizard held his breath, feeling immediately vulnerable as soon as his pants and boxers joined his shirt. He felt Tom's eyes more than he saw them, moving over his body possessively.

 _-Gorgeous. –_ He breathed, his gaze trailed down Harry's shy face; flushed from arousal, to his toned chest, right down to his beautiful cock, pink and hard, nestled in a bed of curly black hair. The tip grazed his belly button, and curiously hardened as Tom looked at it. Harry squirmed a bit. Moaning simply from feeling Tom's eyes on him. Tom raised an eyebrow, looking at Harry as he began to take his own clothes off.

The warm light from the fire cast interesting shadows across Tom as his shirt fell away from his body. Harry pushed himself up on his elbows, his breath catching in his throat at he took in the sight of him. He was perfectly built, toned and strong. His pants hung dangerously low on his hips and Harry couldn't tear his eyes away from the thin trail of hair that disappeared under his trousers and lead straight to the formidable bulge between Tom's legs.

It felt like a fuzzy, too warm dream. Harry's entire body flooded with heat, his mouth went dry. Arousal was simmering quickly within him, threatening to pick up to a boil as those hands he had dreamed about for so long dropped to unbuckle the older man's belt.

Tom moved unbearably slow, meeting Harry's gaze intently as finally his pants fell open, revealing an erection that looked nearly painful. Harry's gaze rested on his cock, and he promptly moaned. Tom shivered lightly, his scarlet eyes flashing with desire.

 _-T-tom…may I…-_ Harry's eyes flickered down to his cock and then met his gaze again. He bit his lip nervously. Tom raised an eyebrow, smirking.

 _-May you what? -_ The younger man whimpered softly, pushing himself up to his knees. He only had to move forward a little until he was face to face with Tom. Tom reached out, caressing the side of Harry's flushed face tenderly. The other wizard whined, turning his head to press a kiss to the inside of Tom's wrist.

 _-May I please taste you? –_ He asked, somehow sounding innocent all the while, even though the request came out as a breathy moan. Tom placed his hand on the boy's shoulder and pushed him down gently, silently giving Harry his answer.

Harry sat, suddenly so close to the cock that he had fantasized about. He pressed a soft kiss to the tip, his eyes fluttering shut as his lips brushed the silky hot skin. He opened them, letting the head slip into his mouth. The taste of Tom exploded in his mouth, and then he was taking more into his mouth, sucking reverently. His hands curled around the back of Tom's thighs, steadying himself as he tried to taste as much of Tom as possible.

Tom gasped sharply, a soft groan escaping him. He twisted his fingers into Harry's hair, pushing gently on his head as the boy eagerly sucked him. Harry seemed to like this, moaning wantonly around the cock in his mouth. Tom savored the feeling of Harry's mouth for a moment, bucking into the wet heat. But he had better things planned, so he gently pulled the boy back, smiling as he whined in protest.

 _-It is my turn to taste you, love. –_ Harry stared at him wide eyed as Tom pulled him up to his feet. His lips brushed lightly along the underside of Harry's erection, causing the younger man's knees to weaken slightly. Tom smiled, cupping Harry's backside for support, pressing open mouthed kisses down his length.

Harry began to tremble lightly, his hands twisting into Tom's hair and clenching convulsively. His thoughts started to blur around the edges, all he could focus on was how hot Tom's lips were, and how desperately he wanted them wrapped around him. Unexpectedly he got his wish, gasping sharply and then promptly bending over Tom's head and moaning so loud it was nearly a shout. He was suddenly completely buried in Tom's mouth, the hot wetness tightening and moving over his length.

"T-Tom! Oh, Merlin, Tom…please, fuck me!" Tom's head pulled away immediately, and then they were pulled into the gut wrenching feeling of disapparation.

Harry landed on the bed first, closely followed by the weight of his lover settling on top of him. It was sudden and over whelming and utterly blissful. Tom's body completely covered his, bearing down on every inch of exposed skin and blossoming into beautiful heated pleasure. His moistened lips caressed his neck, the ridge of his collarbone, closed over one, and then the other nipple. Harry cried out, arching into his touch.

Tom couldn't keep his hands off of Harry, he wanted to touch every part of him, soak him up until they couldn't be separated. His hands smoothed over milky white thighs, parting them until his hand could nestle between them. He murmured softly against Harry's hip, his fingers becoming slick at once. His finger rubbed gently along the younger boy's entrance, sliding up to tease the sensitive spot right above, and then returning to his entrance, nearly slipping the tip of his finger inside, but not quite.

Harry almost jumped as Tom's wet finger touched such a private part of him. It felt so wonderfully naughty, and soon he was squirming with the sensation. He bore down on the pressure, whining softly when Tom teased him.

"P-please, Tom…" He gasped, moaning in relief as the finger slid inside of him. He expected it to hurt, but instead all he felt was a strange, wonderful sense of being filled. If his finger felt like this than what would his cock feel like? His body flushed with heat, and he whimpered desperately, bucking his hips onto the finger.

Tom began to move, rubbing along the inside of his lover. He added another, and then a third, too impatient to bother with stretching for too long. He savored the heat of Harry for a moment, and then curled his fingers deliberately, smirking as Harry cried out. His head snapped back, his fingers curling around the sheets. When his eyes opened, they locked on Tom and the look in them was so blatantly erotic that Tom pulled his fingers out and grabbed Harry's hips and flipped them both over, settling Harry onto his lap.

If Tom had had any patience at all, it was gone. Harry pushed himself up to his knees, spreading his legs invitingly. He peered down at Tom, almost innocent looking.

 _-Make me yours. –_ Tom growled, clutching Harry's hips and pressing the head of his cock into the heat of Harry's entrance. Harry shuddered, trying to buck down onto his erection. Tom held fast to him, staring at his green eyes intently.

 _-Say it. -_ Harry need not even ask what he meant.

 _-I love you. –_ Tom's fingers tightened, his eyes flashing.

_-Again.-_

_-Tom, I love you. -_ Harry whimpered, rolling his hips down slightly, moaning as Tom slid a bit further into him. He gripped Tom's shoulders tightly,

 _-I need you inside me so bad, I love you, I love you, I love you. –_ Harry was gasping by the end of it. Tom's eyes closed with the sound of it, obsessed with hearing Harry say those words. He slid slowly inside of him, groaning deeply as he was sucked into Harry's heat.

It was as if the world stopped again, slowing around them as they become connected for the first time. Tom's hands dug into Harry's hips, breathing heavily. They were still once again, and then it was impossible to stay still.

Tom's hips jerked upward and Harry cried out, his eyes snapping open. Their eyes met, and it was as if they had never existed before that moment. Tom's hands guided Harry up and then down, starting a slow, burning rhythm. Moans fell like prayers from Harry's mouth, whispering Tom's name reverently as the man slid in and out of him.

It was too slow, it was never deep enough. Their pace quickened, Tom snapping up into Harry as the younger man tried desperately to take him deeper. Their angle shifted and suddenly Harry was seeing stars, crying out for more.

Tom kept him there, ramming into that same spot over and over until Harry sobbed with the pleasure.

 _-Tom! Mm, Tom…-_ He was close, and Tom wanted nothing more than to see Harry come screaming his name.

_-Mine.-_

The words left Tom's mouth and then Harry was coming, his body taut as he arched and screamed Tom's name, strands of milky white come splashing over his stomach.

Tom shuddered as Harry convulsed around him, riding out Harry's orgasm until he lost himself as well, emptying himself into his lover. Harry collapsed against him, burying his sweaty face into Tom's neck. The older man wrapped his arms possessively around him, placing soft kisses over his neck as his hands moved over the skin of his back. Harry shivered, moaning softly and kissing Tom's neck.

Tom placed his hand on the side of Harry's face, guiding him to his lips. They kissed languidly, tongues sliding along another almost obscenely. It was a repeat of what they had just done, only just their lips and their tongues. It was messy and hot, hands roamed everywhere. It was almost impossible to pull away, their lips finding each other several times more.

_-Harry.-_

_-Mm? -_ Harry hummed, his lips still slightly connected to Tom's.

 _-Look at your arm. –_ Harry blinked, looking over at his left arm that was resting on the pillow beside Tom's head. In a shocking black color, wrapped around his arm were symbols he recognized as ancient runes. He sat up, gasping as he felt Tom still inside of him. He looked over at Tom's left arm and found that they were nearly identical.

"Is that supposed to happen?" He asked, running his fingers over the marks on Tom's arm. He gasped as they glowed slightly, and then faded back to black. Tom smiled a little, catching Harry's hand and entwining their fingers. They both sighed softly, two pieces snapping into place.

_-Now you are mine.-_

_-I always have been.-_


	5. Completion

In the morning, Harry woke with panic. His eyes snapped open, his heart beating wildly with the dream he had been having. For it must have been a dream, for it to have been so perfect. Sorrow followed panic swiftly and he shifted to press his face into the pillow. Only, it wasn't a pillow beneath his face. His eyes focused and he realized there was a bare chest under his head. He blinked and peered upward, finding the relaxed face of his sleeping Lord.

Their bodies were tangled together pleasantly, and as he shifted once more he became aware of two things. First, they were naked, and second, it most definitely had not been a dream, because a sharp ache was working its way up his spine. He groaned softly with pain, and then broke into a satisfied smile. He settled back down against Tom's chest, his fingers playing gently over his skin.

Tom roused, sensing his mate's distress. He gazed down at him, smiling softly at the look of contentment that was spreading over Harry's face, whatever had upset him had passed. He hummed in pleasure under his attention, his fingers hooking under Harry's chin and tilting his face upward for a lazy kiss. Harry leaned into it gladly, pushing himself up so he could deepen it.

They kissed for a long while, simply enjoying the movement of their lips and the utter wholeness that was now within them. When they broke apart, Harry was breathless and his eyes were glistening with tears.

 _-Love, why are you crying?-_ Tom whispered, cradling Harry's face in his hand. Harry smiled, shaking his head.

 _-I am so completely happy, Tom. I've never felt so full, so whole. I've been missing you my entire life.-_ He said softly, looking into Tom's eyes with wonder. Tom smiled, brushing his thumb over his mate's cheekbone.

 _-I know how you feel, dear one. It was always meant to be this way.-_ Tom replied. He caressed his cheek once more and sat up, getting out of bed. He motioned for Harry to follow him. The younger man winced as he did so and Tom paused, moving closer to him and placing cool hands over Harry's hips.

Harry rested his hands over Tom's chest as calming waves of magic eased the pain in his rear. He sighed in relief, kissing Tom's shoulder in thanks. The older man's hands wandered downward, pulling Harry closer and catching his lips in a kiss that took Harry's breath away. If he had thought that Tom would affect him less after being bonded to him, he was wrong. It only made him more intense.

Harry keened, his fingers curling around the older man's shoulders and kissing back for all he was worth. His eyes were misty when they pulled back.

 _-You are so very distracting.-_ Harry smiled playfully, kissing the Dark Lord's cheek.

 _-Imagine what the Death Eaters will think, the Dark Lord, distracted by the kiss of a 16 year old boy.-_ Tom frowned, his hands moving sensuously over Harry's bare arse.

 _-I think you are much more than a 16 year old boy, Harry. You are my mate. You are my other half. If you were held with great regard before, now all will regard you as my equal. They will treat you as they would treat me. And I swear if a single person dares to disrespect my mate, they will suffer much more than a crucio. Dumbledore will see the error in his plans to take you from me. For if I was powerful before, I am now undefeatable. The world is at our feet, Harry.-_ Harry looked at him in awe, captured by the intensity of his conviction. Tom always could bring him to his knees.

 _-Tom, this bond we have…it's going to win the war for us isn't it?-_ Harry asked, breathless with the excitement and power he could feel rolling off of his mate.

_-Yes, Harry. You were the only one born with enough power to defeat me, and now that we are one, no one stands a chance. The Wizarding World will know, and respect the power of Lord Voldemort and Harry Potter.-_

* * *

 

Dumbledore was an old man. Older than many could ever imagine. He liked it that way, to keep the world guessing about his age. He was rumored to be 115, but he was pushing 300 these days. His age meant that he had seen a lot of life. He had witnessed Darkness before, he had been in Harry Potter's shoes. He had felt that seductive pull of Darkness. He had loved the monster, too. He had found out the hard way that that path never led to happiness, never led to true love.

Yes, he had loved Gellert Grindelwald, and he had paid the price in the end, just as Harry Potter would. Voldemort didn't love Harry. He didn't care one bit about his life. He was using him to win the war. And that was dangerous. Because Harry was the deciding factor, and whoever had him would win.

And if Dumbledore only wanted him to use him, then at least he was using him for a good reason. For the light, for the right side. For the greater good.

It was his duty to save Harry Potter, if only to sacrifice him in the end, to benefit the good.

It would be harder now though, he had felt the shift in magic. Being so old made one sensitive to these things, and Dumbledore had felt the connection of souls even from so far away. It wouldn't matter in the end, though. He knew Tom Riddle, and that man would never genuinely bond to another. It was a false bond, then. Something to convince Harry, but no more. Poor boy, poor deluded, naïve Harry. It would be a pity to kill him, but it just couldn't be helped.

 

* * *

 

Severus apparated, looking up at the gloomy residence of Number 12 Grimmauld Place. He most sincerely did not want to be here, doing what he needed to do. If so much did not rely on this, he would never face this at all. This was something he had sworn he would never face again, but once again, the life of Harry Potter was more important than his own.

 

* * *

 

"Hey Snivellus! Why don't you go stick that big nose in a Dark Arts book, that's what you're best at, isn't it?" Severus kept his head down, moving past the group of the Mauraders as quickly as he could, holding his book to his chest as if it could protect him.

"Don't you ignore me, Snivellus!" James Potter called, and then suddenly Severus was jerked up into the air. His book fell to the ground and James' sneering face was before him.

"Let's see what's under Snivelly's trousers, eh?" He said cockily, flicking his wand and pulling Severus's trousers to his ankles. The group of students gathered around him began to laugh, pointing at the old, ratted pants he was wearing. Severus felt fury burn at him and he twisted angrily, trying to break the spell holding him up.

"Stop it James, that's enough." Remus Lupin said calmly, looking on at Severus with a mixture of pity and self-loathing.

"Oh come off it, Moony, this is fun!"

"James, cut it out. Now." To Severus' surprise it was Sirius Black. He looked angry, pissed off even. When James didn't move he stepped forward, knocking James' wand to the side so that Severus fell to the ground with a thud. With a flaming face he pulled his trousers up, glaring at James as he snatched up his book and hurried away. He had gotten half way to the library when someone grabbed his shoulder. He tuned furiously.

"Get the hell off of me!" He spit, taken aback as he saw Sirius behind him. He jerked his shoulder away.

"Don't you dare touch me. Just because you "stood up for me" back there doesn't change a thing!" Sirius stepped back, looking hurt.

"Look, I can't just go around acting like your friend." He whispered, looking around cautiously.

"Oh, of course not. Because that would mean you were involved with scum like me, right? Wouldn't want anyone to know you were fucking Severus Snape, right? Fuck you, Sirius." Sirius' eyes widened and he pushed Severus into an alcove, pressing a hand over his mouth.

"You know it's not like that, I…I'm not ashamed of you. It's just James, he wouldn't understand…" Severus spit into his hand, pushing him away forcefully and stalking down the hall.

 

* * *

 

Sirius was shocked, to say the least, when Severus showed up outside his door.

"You've got a lot of nerve, showing up here after we found out you're on his side." Sirius said coldly. Severus said nothing, pressing his lips together and pushing past him into the house. Sirius turned to him, crossing his arms.

"What are you doing here, Severus?" He snapped.

"You're not going to win." He said simply, turning to look at Sirius. Sirius scoffed.

"Is that all you came to say? Well, thank you, I'm very intimidated. You can leave now."

"You don't understand. The Dark Lord knows what he's doing and he has Harry. They are more powerful than ever and they will win and you will die." Sirius quieted, noting the weight of Severus' words. Severus wasn't one for exaggeration.

"What do you mean, he has Harry? You make it sound so…final."

"It is. They're bonded. Harry isn't going anywhere and now that they're bonded the prophecy is fulfilled, only not the way Dumbledore wanted it to be. Harry was the only one who could defeat him, but now Harry _is_ him." Sirius looked horrified, shaking his head.

"No. No!" Severus surged forward, grabbing Sirius by the neck of his shirt.

" _Yes_." He hissed. "And there is nothing that you or Dumbledore or the order can do to stop it, so you'd better listen and listen closely. What Dumbledore is going to do now that Harry is a part of Voldemort is try to kill him and that's going to be very hard to do, but it's _not_ impossible. He will go after Harry to get to Voldemort and _you_ are going to protect him, you hear me?" Severus snarled. Sirius stared wide eyed at him.

"Why would I do that? If it can defeat Voldemort!"

"Because he's James' son, because you wish you were there for Harry, because you feel responsible for all this, because deep down inside you've always been a true Black trying to masquerade as a white sheep, and…because _I_ asked you to."

 

* * *

 

With the protection of the Dark Lord and Harry Potter's bond, Tom no longer needed to keep himself so hidden. What had started as low key attacks bloomed into full scale raids and battles. Tom and Harry were not present at most of these, however. No, Tom was saving their debut for someone special.

The Death Eaters had noticed the difference in their relationship immediately. It hadn't even been needed to be said that Harry was to be held in higher regard. The two gave off an aura. It made most of them uncomfortable, if only because there was a noticeable change in Harry's demeanor. He had been somewhat aggressive before, which was to be expected from a child bred to be the next Dark Lord. But he had always been milder than Tom, more merciful, more kind. This was less true now. It was almost as if Harry had adopted some of Tom's traits. And in turn, Tom had adopted some of Harry's, mixing until they were so alike it disturbed the hell out of any one who witnessed them together.

Bella had backed off fast that was for sure. Harry had caught her looking at Tom only once, and his glare was enough to scare her. Was that a flash of scarlet she saw in his eyes?

But if anyone had expected Tom to be less cruel in his war tactics because of this strange mix, they were mistaken. He was as merciless as ever, taking down the Brockdale and the Millennium Bridges. Florean Fortesque and Ollivander went missing. Octavius Pepper, Igor Karkaroff and Emaline Vance were murdered. Tom was playing his cards carefully, and soon he would take control of the ministry, but he was biding his time.

"My Lord, the time is ripe! Why are we holding back when the ministry is crumbling at our feet?" Tom shot a glare at Bellatrix, who had the decency to look chided.

"Do not presume you know my plans better than I do. I will act when I feel fit. I am unsatisfied with the thought of puppets running the ministry for me. Oh no, I think I will do it myself. " Tom mused, sharing a look with Harry. Harry smiled.

"They won't know what hit them."


	6. Freedom

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Wow! I was so overwhelmed by how much positive feedback this story has gotten since I came back. I mean, shucks, guys, I feel obligated to give you more now. Please enjoy!
> 
> In response to the reviewer who hoped the flashbacks were over: Haha, nope.

* * *

Sixteen year old Severus had no idea how his life had come to this point. He had been perfectly content with being an outcast, staying out of the center of things to be alone with his books and his Dark magic. Or at least he could remember being content with this.

It had been fine until that pivotal night in the library. Everything had been fine, and now look at him; half naked and panting below none other than Sirius Black. He should be thinking about how cruel Sirius had been to him for the last five years, but all he could comprehend was how cruel it was that Sirius was stroking him so teasingly through his trousers.

This was insane. Forbidden and wrong and absolutely perfect in every way because Sirius made Severus feel like no one ever had before. He felt…desired, wanted, sought after. Sirius looked at him like he was somebody. He touched him like he was precious. He whispered sweet things in his ear as he brought them both to unimaginable pleasure.

Severus didn't care anymore if he upheld his cold exterior, because the heat that rolled off of Sirius felt _so good_.

"Sirius, please, you're teasing me." Severus panted, pushing his aching need into Sirius's hand. The roguish boy smiled, cupping him more firmly and nipping at Severus' delicate jaw, not yet that of a man's.

"Mm, Sev. I love it when you talk like that." Sirius murmured, fumbling with the fastenings of Severus' trousers. He wrapped his hand around the other boy's bare flesh triumphantly, grinning as Severus gave a keening moan and arched up.

"A-ah, Sirius, need you." He moaned mindlessly, his hands gripping at whatever part of Sirius he could reach, his arm, his hip, pulling him closer because he could never be close enough for Severus to be satisfied.

Sirius groaned in approval, hastily removing Severus' trousers and pants and then crouching over him to rid himself of clothes as well. Their lips met feverishly when Sirius settled back down on top of him, sighing in bliss as their sweat slicked skin rubbed together.

Severus' legs spread gladly for Sirius' gentle probing fingers. He whimpered in pleasure as they explored the inside of his body, pushing down in impatience. He longed to feel Sirius inside him again, it felt like nothing he had ever felt before. It felt like completeness. It felt like being loved.

"Hurry, please." He breathed, a bead of sweat dripping down his forehead. Sirius lapped at it, nestling himself between Severus' legs. His head dropped to Severus' shoulder as he slid inside, overwhelmed by the burning embrace of Severus. He gasped, trembling slightly.

"Ah, always…so…perfect, Sev." He breathed, laying wet kisses over Severus' throat. The other boy was gripping onto Severus tightly, his short fingernails digging into Sirius' muscled back as he adjusted to him. No matter how many times they did this – and they did it a lot, they were teenage boys, after all – it never lost its novelty. It still felt as intense and as special as the first.

Severus wrapped his legs around Sirius' waist, urging him forward with his heels. The curly haired boy let out a strangled groan as his pelvis became flush with Severus'. The other boy clenched impulsively, causing Sirius to shudder and grip Severus' hip hastily.

"S-Sev…" Said boy rolled his hips up and against Sirius', moaning softly as he did so.

"Sirius, move, now." He commanded. Sirius obeyed, beginning a rhythm they both knew wouldn't last. It didn't really matter, they were so wound up they would be at it again in less than an hour.

Severus pulled Sirius' face to his own, nearly sobbing as his orgasm coiled tight in his stomach. Sirius was close too, his thrusts becoming frantic. He reached between them to stroke Severus, only once, and then the boy was clenching and arching, coating Sirius' hand with come. Sirius gasped loudly as Severus closed down on him and followed quickly, burying his face in Severus' sweaty neck and kissing every bit of flesh he could.

Severus relaxed against the bed drowsily, enjoying the feeling of Sirius' lips on his skin and the softening erection still inside him. When Sirius finally pushed himself over, Severus instinctively cuddled closer, sighing as Sirius tucked his head under his chin, placing a soft kiss on top of his dark hair.

Years later Severus would blame the orgasm and his stupid youth for what he said to Sirius, but sixteen year old Severus could only blame his heart as he nuzzled Sirius' chest and murmured;

"I love you."

* * *

Draco stared uncomprehendingly at his headmaster.

"You want me to do _what?_ " He asked, his voice becoming nearly shrill in his shock. All the twinkle in Dumbledore's eyes had hardened to ice as he looked at the youngest Malfoy sternly. He folded his hands in front of him, leaning back in his chair.

"This is a time of war, Mr. Malfoy, and I was under the impression that your family was allying themselves with the Order." Draco tried to swallow with his dry throat, but found it impossible. How on earth was he supposed to get out of this? If it were Severus, he would know exactly what to do. But he was Draco, and he was only sixteen.

But sixteen was old enough to know which side of a war was least likely to get you killed. And at the moment, Dumbledore's side didn't look too promising. He also didn't want to come out and say he was on the Dark Lord's side and would take his chances _without_ trying to kill Lord Voldemort's mate, thanks very much.

"That's correct, sir." He said, schooling his face as Malfoys were best at. Dumbledore leaned forward, and all facades of cheer and good-naturedness vanished.

"Then I expect that you will try your best, Mr. Malfoy." He said.

* * *

Harry was laughing. He was laughing so hard, he was running out of breath. Tom looked on at his mate in silent amusement, perching his chin on his fist as he watched him from his chair in the library. Oh, his mate really was stunning when he was laughing at someone else's expense.

Draco stood awkwardly between them, looking at Harry as if he might have gone slightly mad. Tom considered this. Tom himself was sometimes viewed as not completely sane, maybe they shared that now? In any case, Harry was laughing for a good reason. If Tom were the sort to laugh, he would join him.

"He…told _you_ …to kill _me_! Oh _Merlin,_ that's _rich_." Draco sneered slightly, and would have commented about how he might have a good chance at offing him, if it weren't for the very possessive, very protective scarlet eyes burning holes in his back.

Harry seemed to calm himself, though mirth was still in his eyes.

"As amusing as that thought is, it's rather annoying that Dumbledore is planning your demise. I imagine he is trying to get to me through you. And just as I suspected, he is underestimating the legitimacy of our bond." Harry sobered, meeting his mate's eyes across the room.

"You mean he thinks it's fake?" He stated. Tom nodded once in assent, crossing his legs casually.

"Naturally. I've led him to believe that I am incapable of emotion and so he assumes I have created a false bond to convince you that I am in love with you to keep you on my side." Draco, personally, was mulling over the fact that his Lord was saying he _did_ have emotions. Was he implying that he _was truly in love with Harry Potter?_ He thought about this for a moment and fought off a shudder of disgust, imagining the Dark Lord being _affectionate_. Lustful, sure. Possessive, definitely. Loving… _ugh_.

"I'm wont to be offended that he thinks I would fall for that." Harry commented. Tom shrugged.

"It certainly gives us an advantage. He underestimates our strength, and so his attempts will be feeble." His eyes drifted toward Draco meaningfully. Harry's lips cracked into a smile at his subtle jibe.

* * *

"Fuck!" Sirius hurled a vase at the wall, ignoring the shrieking that emitted from Walburga's portrait. He pulled at his hair in frustration, as if pulling his hair out would pull the memories of Severus with it. It was useless of course. What they had had was…

It didn't matter though. Because it never could have worked. They were from different worlds to begin with. Even if Severus hadn't become a Death Eater, it wouldn't have worked…right? And even if they hadn't broken up, Severus was just Dark. He would've joined Voldemort anyway. Severus was a Dark wizard and it was for the better that they had parted before Sirius got hurt.

_But the Darkness calls you too…Dark doesn't equal evil, it equals power, Sirius. Your family knew that. The Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. You always fought it but it called to you. It still does, just like Severus calls to you. What do you have to fight against anymore? What is holding you back from what you want most? A senile man and a promise of a world that has never worked, and never will? The further denial of who you are? The oppression of wizardkind? A life without the only man that ever made you feel alive?_

What they had had was…all he had ever wanted.

* * *

Harry found himself rather nervous as he entered Tom's room. He wasn't sure why, but maybe it was because his entire body was on high alert by simply being in the same room as Tom. And now that they were alone, they no longer had to fight the intense desire to be near to each other.

Harry gasped as Tom's arms wrapped blessedly around him. He pressed his forehead into Tom's chest, breathing in the intoxicating smell of him and soaking in his heat. Tom seemed just as affected, burying his nose in Harry's unruly hair and gripping him close.

"Will it always be like this?" Harry breathed, smoothing his hands over his mate's lean back. Tom hummed, starting a burning trail of kisses at Harry's temple and then down to his neck. He spoke into Harry's ear, his deep voice stirring primal need in the pit of Harry's stomach. He shivered as his hot breath rushed over his skin, leaning helplessly into his strong embrace.

_-Will it always feel like there's a hundred miles between us when it is really only ten feet? Will your heart always catch on fire at the sight, the smell, the feeling of me? Will you always have this crushing desire to be closer, to kiss deeper? Will you always feel my eyes on you and nearly come? Will you always long to be mine, in every way? For me to possess you and dominate you completely? For me to fuck you so thoroughly that there is no question, no inkling of doubt in your mind, of whom you belong to?-_

Harry came undone, his mate's words plucking and pulling at the strings of his control until he crumbled. He sealed himself against Tom's body, hands clutching in the material of his shirt as he panted, his body aching and throbbing already.

 _-Yes…yes. Please.-_ He moaned, sucking and kissing at the flesh of his mate's neck, his hands pulling at the fabric of his shirt until it ripped open.

Tom growled, his hand grabbing at Harry's hair and yanking back to access his mouth. Harry cried out, opening his mouth to Tom's demanding tongue. In less than thirty seconds his shirt was on the floor and his trousers pushed down around his knees. Tom curled his fingers around Harry's cock, stroking firmly until the younger man was nearly weeping.

Harry held on to Tom, his knees weak from the onslaught of pleasure. He was crying out and yelling incoherently, his mind hazy. He barely noticed that Tom had picked him up and was tossing him onto the bed.

He bounced softly, peering up into the face of his mate. His red eyes were so dark they looked almost black, he had an almost frightening expression on his face, but it only served to harden Harry's cock even more. Tom snatched his trousers away, and then undressed.

Harry was starkly reminded of their mating, how Tom had deliberately bared his body to Harry in the firelight. Tom was not so patient tonight, but his body was just as magnificent. Pure strength and power rippled under his skin as he stalked toward Harry.

 _-On your knees.-_ He snapped. Harry shuddered in delight, doing as he was told. He felt a gentle hand on his ass, wildly inconsistent with Tom's mood tonight. Until it left and came back down in a stinging slap. Harry let out a strangled moan, his cock twitching. Tom's tongue laved over the burning flesh and the younger man relaxed slightly until another slap landed on the other cheek. Harry was dripping now, shaking with his arousal.

"T-Tom!" He managed, panting into the crook of his elbow. Both hands soothed over his ass, and then they were pulling him open and a hot tongue slipped its way inside him. It was like fire was being poured down his spine. His back arched and he was coming, trembling so hard his hands slipped and his face hit the bed.

Tom was relentless, working his tongue in and out of Harry and cupping his balls in his hand until, amazingly, Harry's cock responded. The younger man gasped in near pain as he hardened, bucking desperately back toward Tom's face. All too soon he was being flipped over and his legs were yanked into the air.

Tom tugged him so his hips hung off the side of the bed. With one hand in the crook of each of Harry's knees, Tom drove deep into his mate. Harry's head and hands went flying back at once, grabbing at the sheets for dear life.

Tom set a punishing pace, angling until Harry had tears streaming down his face.

 _-Say it Harry.-_ Tom hissed.

_-I love you!-_

_-Whom do you belong to?-_

_-You! Only you.-_ Tom tensed, leaning heavily against Harry as he came. The feeling of hot come inside of him sent Harry over the edge once more. It took a long moment before either of them moved. Tom moved first, his lips caressing Harry's calf tenderly, a great contrast to their love making.

They moved lazily to the center of the bed, collapsing in each other's arms. Tom brushed affectionate kisses along the planes of Harry's face, and Harry couldn't help but feel that belonging to Tom Riddle was the most complete freedom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: Oookay, then. Looks like you get two raunchy scenes. This is what happens when I let my fingers move without thinking about it.


	7. Triumph

No one was expecting the Dark lord to do what he did next. Least of all Dumbledore, who had had his own theories about how Voldemort would take the ministry. He had been expecting quiet infiltration, subtle _imperius_ , a covert operation.

And so when Tom Riddle murdered the Minister of Magic and declared himself the Minister, everyone was shocked. So shocked, and frightened, that it had _worked_. The ministry was overtaken in less than five hours. Employees were given a choice, join Voldemort, or die. And with the grace that only Tom Riddle possessed, the ministry fell, and crumbled right under Dumbledore's nose.

And the surprises hadn't ended there. Not only had Tom strolled into the ministry and taken over, but he was _charming_ , and he was _handsome_ , and he had _Harry Potter_ at his side. The public took to his honey like bees. After all, he spoke so well, and he was rather convincing. Dumbledore was getting old, right? Maybe it was time for a new approach to Wizarding life. It would be awfully nice not to have to hide from muggles. Who decided that they got to be in charge anyway, when wizards were so powerful?

It was like taking candy from a child.

* * *

Harry was laughing again, lounging back gleefully in the Minister's chair. He grinned joyously at Tom, who was watching him with an amused smile on his face.

"You should have seen their faces. That was brilliant, how you just walked right in. Oh, Tom. I think I might have fallen in love with you all over again." Tom's eyes darkened pleasantly as he walked over to hover over Harry. The younger boy gazed up at him, love and awe in his eyes as Tom's finger hooked under his chin.

He swooped down to capture his lips, groaning in appreciation as Harry whimpered softly.

"You were excellent, Harry. You are stunning when you fight, and having you stand at my side when the ministry fell…the feeling was indescribable. I feel indestructible with you at my side. We make a formidable pair, love." _-Could you tell how they were breathless at the sight of us?-_

Harry nodded, feeling breathless himself with the way Tom was talking. It was intoxicating, the way this man spoke, the way he looked at him. His excitement was soaking into Harry, setting a fire alight in his chest that spread through his whole body.

 _-You're magnificent, Tom. -_ He breathed, his eyes half closed with the pleasure of the power flowing openly through their bond. That power washed over him teasingly, and then it started to concentrate over his erection. Tom's eyes flickered wickedly and the power wrapped around him and stroked upward firmly. Harry felt drunk with the feeling of Tom's magic, seeping into his bones and making him ache in the best way.

Harry gasped loudly, a strangled moan escaping him as his head flew back against the leather chair.

 _-T-Tom! -_ He cried in shock, his eyes flying open to stare at him in disbelief. Tom only smirked.

 _-I think it's time we broke in the Minister's desk, Harry. -_ He hissed slyly. Harry agreed with a moan, reaching up to wrap his arms around Tom's neck and kiss him fiercely. Tom pulled him up from the chair, spinning him around so his back hit the edge of the large desk.

Tom's hands wrapped around Harry's arse, squeezing delightfully as he lifted his younger lover onto the desk. Harry caught Tom's waist with his knees, pulling him flush against his body. He arched forward, able to feel Tom's answering arousal.

They came together like pieces of a puzzle, their erections straining as they rubbed through their trousers. Their clothes fell to the floor like water, leaving them bare and so deliciously _close_. Tom ran his hands over Harry's skin reverently, pinching his rosy nipples between his fingers until Harry cried out and gripped Tom's firm arse, arching against his cock until it nestled between his legs.

The younger man whimpered as the head of Tom's erection pressed against him, slickening the way with pre-come. Tom let himself slide along Harry teasingly, smiling into his sweaty neck when he whined impatiently and rolled his hips forward.

He slipped in half way and paused, groaning at the effort it took not to slam inside his willing lover. Instead, he thrust shallowly, teasing the outer ring of muscle and reaching down to cup Harry's balls gently.

He massaged them slowly in time with his shallow thrusts, delighting in how Harry jerked and shuddered. The younger man tried in vain to buck against him, but Tom held him still with one hand on his hip. Harry growled in frustration.

 _-Tom! Please, you're killing me! -_ He hissed. Tom hummed softly, tilting his head to the side playfully.

 _-Tom? Who is this "Tom" you speak of? -_ Harry gaped at him, groaning as he gritted out, _-Ugh, please, My Lord!-_

 _-Tut, tut. Still not right, dear Harry. I've waited so long for this title, after all.-_ Harry rolled his eyes when it sunk in what Tom meant. If he wasn't so desperate to have Tom fuck him he would never do this, but alas…

 _-Please, Minister! -_ Tom smiled in triumph, finally slamming into his lover. Harry yelled, clutching Tom close and locking his legs around him to prevent him from pulling away and teasing him again. Tom didn't disappoint him, he set a quick but deep rhythm, rolling his hips _just so_ and hitting all the spots that made Harry's blood sing.

A heady rush of emotion was flowing through their bond. Excitement, pleasure, victory, love, and pure, undiluted, raw _power_.

 _-Harry, my beautiful, perfect, mate. You have given me everything. -_ Tom breathed, his hot breath on his ear sending Harry over the edge. Tom's arms held him tightly, possessively as he came, those long fingers smoothing over his hair and back as he followed, his grip tightening around his lover.

They relaxed against each other, sated and giddy with the power that they shared. Harry pressed a warm kiss to Tom's shoulder, sighing contentedly as Tom's hand cradled his head against his chest. He felt so cherished, to be held like this.

 _-I never once thought it would be like this. -_ Tom said quietly and there was something in voice that made Harry listen very closely.

 _-When I took you that night, as a baby. I knew we would one day be bonded, but this…-_ He trailed off in wonder and to Harry's surprise, he sounded almost close to tears.

 _-This perfection. This feeling of being complete, of having someone care so deeply about you. It is something I have never experienced. I have always been feared, avoided, looked at with contempt and mistrust. No one has ever been able to handle me for who I truly am. Except for you, you marvelous boy. You have seen me at my very worst, and yet you look at me as if I am the only thing in your world. To feel that utter devotion from you, that pure love…I…-_ Harry pulled back to look into Tom's eyes. They were strangely watery, and he looked frightened, two things he had never seen on Tom's face. Harry placed his hands on Tom's face gently, brushing his thumbs over the slightly stubbled skin.

 _-Shh, Tom. You don't have to do this for me. -_ He had never expressed his emotions to him before, and Harry could tell it was painful for him.

 _-I want to! -_ The desperation with which this was said shocked Harry into silence. Tom's hands gripped his shoulders tightly and Harry gasped as he felt his lover hardening inside him again. This was accompanied by a strong wave of possession, desire and love so pure it knocked the breath out of Harry.

Tom surged forward, thrusting deep inside his mate.

 _-You have no idea, Harry! How you make me feel! -_ Harry cried out, holding Tom as close as he could. He pressed his face against the side of Tom's.

 _-Tell me…-_ Tom moaned deeply, tangling his hand in Harry's hair and tugging his head back until their eyes met. He drove forward harder.

 _-I love you Harry. So much it scares me. So much that I can't help but try to possess every single inch of your body, every single recess of your heart, of your devotion, of your attention. I crave to have them all to myself because every single atom of my existence belongs to_ you _.-_

 _-Tom! I am yours, all yours. -_ Harry moaned, shivering under his mate's gaze.

 _-Marry me. In front of everyone. Tell every single person that you are_ mine _. -_ Harry came violently, his finger nails biting deep into Tom's back as he screamed.

 _-Yes! Yes, Oh Tom, yes…-_ Tom bit down on Harry's neck as he came, lapping at the slight flow of blood. Harry held him close, whimpering and trembling, tears streaming down his face. He pulled Tom's lips to his feverishly.

 _-Thank you, thank you, thank you.-_ Tom rattled, kissing him joyously.

_-No, thank you, Tom.-_

* * *

Sirius had no idea what he was doing. This was _so wrong_. So why did it feel like what he was meant to do from the very beginning? Right feeling or not, though, he was anxious about the fact that he was standing outside Spinner's end. Severus might have sought him out, but that didn't mean he wouldn't hex his balls off for coming to his home.

It didn't matter though, Sirius told himself. Severus had been right, as usual. They were going to lose and the meager loyalty he had drudged up for the Order was no match to the intoxicating pull of the Dark. He could feel it singing in him, triumphant in its victory over his allegiance. Stronger than that even was the pull of Severus.

Severus had always had a power over him, a sweet, seductive, poisonous tug and pull. He was in no position to resist it now. Sirius let himself go, he let the shadow take over and it had led him here, right to Severus' door.

When the door opened there was a sort of recognition in Severus' eyes. He appraised the length of his body slowly, resting intently on his eyes. Sirius met them without hesitation and then he was shoving Severus into the house and kicking the door shut behind them. Severus pinned him to the door as it shut, grabbing his wrists and jerking them up above his head.

Sirius arched toward him, showing submission to Severus' dominating demeanor. He felt Severus' pleasure roll over him and moaned softly. The other man's eyes darkened and then Sirius' lips were taken in a brutal kiss.

This was nothing like their days at Hogwarts. Severus was dark and brooding and rough, where he had been soft and accepting before.

Sirius loved every moment, feeling for the first time that he was truly himself.

* * *

"I want a report, Draco." Albus Dumbledore was in a downright sour mood today. After all, Voldemort had just snatched the ministry up like pulling a rug from under Dumbledore's feet. He held Draco captive under his gaze, not a twinkle to be found. Draco shifted nervously, unnerved by this aggressive side of Dumbledore.

"The Dark Lord keeps him well guarded. He seems to…fancy him a bit." He said uncertainly. He needed to convince Dumbledore this was a lost cause without giving away that the Dark Lord and Potter really did have a true bond. He didn't want to give away their advantage. Dumbledore hummed dismissively.

"Just protective of his belongings, that's all." He commented. Draco couldn't help but agree, though Dumbledore was sorely underestimating the extent of his Lord's… _"protectiveness"_.

"You will just have to try harder. You cannot let me down, Draco." Dumbledore said sternly. Draco nodded, turning to leave the headmaster's office.

"Draco." He stilled, his hand on the door.

"I think you will find your family in a very bad position if you fail." Dumbledore said, the threat clear. Draco tried very hard not to slam the door on the way out.


	8. Affection

The day after the fall of the ministry, the public got to really meet their new leader. It was not at all what they had been expecting. What happened to the He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named that was pale and faceless and cruel? What happened to all the things Albus Dumbledore had told them about the man cloaked in fear so thick people didn't dare to speak his name? And who, in Merlin's name, was the young man at his side?

An incredible amount of people were gathered outside the ministry, which had already been repaired from the fight. They were crowded around the impressive figure they now knew as Minister Riddle. At his side stood a dark haired boy with bright green eyes. He stood casually at Riddle's side, almost as if they were… _equals_. The press was going insane, Rita Skeeter was having a field day, plotting up different theories about the relationship between the minister and the mysterious boy.

Father and son, perhaps? Brothers? Or, ooh, lovers? She didn't have to guess for long though, because Tom Riddle simply raised a hand and the crowd fell into hushed silence, visibly leaning forward to catch every word.

"People of Wizarding Britain, let me take this chance to formally introduce myself to you, and dispel some of the slanderous misconceptions you have been led to believe by my adversaries. Some of you may know me by the title of Lord Voldemort. I do not associate myself with any such title as of such. My name is Tom Riddle and it is my most sincere desire to take the shambles of our pitiful society and raise them up to the glory that our people deserve. A society that does not live in fear, that does not hide, that does not submit themselves to those who wish to oppress us. We possess a great gift, and we should not be ashamed of this gift that sets above others. It has previously been said that my world would not include those of muggle born status, and this rumor is false. Each witch and wizard that is willing to contribute to my vision will be valued. However I will advise those of you who wish to destroy me against attempting to do so. I will be a fair Minister, but I am not a merciful man. If my adversaries wish to stand against me, they will regret it."

The people were entranced, enchanted even, with this man's message. He spoke well, anyone would agree. Though they got the impression that regardless of his charm, he was not a man to be reckoned with. It was the collective agreement among the people that whoever dared stand against him would, indeed, regret it.

"On a brighter note, I would also like to introduce you to my partner." Tom held out a hand to Harry and he stepped easily under the out stretched arm. They looked good together, and the crowd wondered why they would ever stand apart when it looked so natural for them to be together.

"I would like to introduce Harry Potter. My advisor, Senior Undersecretary, betrothed, and in any case of my disposition, Minister of Magic."

The crowd erupted into chatter and Rita began snapping photos wildly, her quill scratching furiously. All at once press began to ask questions, closing in around the couple, elbowing each other out of the way to get the first scoop. Surprisingly the Minister and his fiancé answered willingly, smiling charmingly.

When they had spoken enough they broke away, and just for show, Tom pulled Harry against him, placing a tender kiss to his lips, making sure plenty of pictures were taken.

* * *

Dumbledore slammed the Daily Prophet down on the desk, his face absolutely scarlet with rage. How utterly despicable, getting married and snogging in front of the camera for media popularity. He could barely believe it was working. Couldn't those stupid people tell he was rotten to the core? How could they believe Tom bloody Riddle over him?

He sat back in his chair, seething. It didn't matter then, what the public thought. It was his responsibility to protect them from themselves. It was for the best, really. It was for the greater good. He would have to stop him by force.

* * *

"No, Albus, you're not seeing the big idea here." Gellert Grindelwald said in exasperation. The teenage boys were lounging in the field on the outskirts of Godric's Hollow, engaged in an argument about whether wizards were superior to muggles.

"I do, Gellert. You're saying we're better than them just because we're born with something we have no control over." Albus said, looking uncomfortable with the idea. Gellert sighed, rolling on his side to face Albus.

They were intimately close now, and any time Gellert was close to him it made it harder for Albus to think properly. How could he be expected to hold up an intelligent conversation with the sharp, handsome features of his friend so close?

"Listen to yourself, Albus. It doesn't matter if we had control over whether we were made wizards or not. It's like the wand that chooses the wizard, so does the magic. Why would we have such a gift if we were not meant to? And what is the purpose of such of gift if we don't use it to make the world a better place? A world where muggles have no right to tell us to hide. Think of it, Albus, the two of us and a bright new world where we're free."

Albus was gone, he was lost. Gellert had woven his words around him like silk and Albus was glad of it. Because his voice was so deep and smooth, running over him like warm chocolate. And his eyes were so bright, so full of life. And Merlin, he was handsome.

Albus reached out hesitantly, brushing the backs of his fingers over the sharp angle of Gellert's cheekbone. Gellert smiled wickedly, taking his hand and kissing the soft palm, never once looking away from Albus' adoring gaze.

"Shall I show you how gifted I am, Albus, love?" He asked, his voice low and full of lustful promises. Albus only whimpered, submitting gladly to Gellert as he rolled on top of him.

* * *

"I'm telling you, Black, you _do not_ want to do this." Severus said roughly, holding on to Sirius' arm tightly. Sirius scoffed, pulling back his arm forcefully.

"Says the man who was doing the exact same thing for over ten years. That's rather hypocritical of you, isn't it?" Sirius accused, crossing his arms. Severus sneered, tugging Sirius close to him and kissing him firmly.

"Just be careful, then. Idiot." He said. Sirius grinned, looking every bit the goofy Gryffindor he was, despite the fact he had just come panting to Severus' door, on fire with desire for him and the Dark.

"Is that concern I hear, Severus? Merlin me-"

"Shut up, I just don't want you to screw things up for the Dark Lord." Severus insisted. Sirius hummed, his tone clearly showing he wasn't buying it at all.

"Right. Of course. It has nothing at all to do with the fact that you have feelings for me." Sirius stated, a large grin planted on his face. Severus frowned emphatically, pushing him away.

"Of course not." He snapped. Sirius grinned wider, leaning in to kiss Severus on the lips quickly.

"Love you." He chirped, laughing in glee at the look of shock of Severus' face as he apparated to the Order meeting being held.

* * *

"Sirius, where were you? This is your house, you know." Tonks greeted as Sirius sat down at the kitchen table where the members of the Order were waiting for him.

"That's right, so I'm allowed to leave it when I want too, right?" He asked, tugging on Tonks' bubblegum pink hair. She stuck her tongue out at him and they laughed good naturedly. It was a shame they were on different sides now. He always did like Tonks, and Lupin, really. But he felt more comfortable in his skin now than he ever had before. It was unnatural to fight what your magic wanted. And his magic very much wanted the Dark and it very much wanted Severus. He had made the right choice.

He just had to make sure no one knew. Luckily for him, no one suspected him of anything, ever. Unlike Severus, whom people had no problem distrusting, Sirius was so trustworthy they would never even consider it. He doubted he'd even have to worry about Dumbledore reading his thoughts. He did know occlumency, but even such, Dumbledore had never tried to read his mind before, so there'd be no reason for him to start. He was the perfect spy.

Dumbledore arrived and finally, the meeting began. Everyone was upset by the sudden turn of events. No one had expected Voldemort to make such a sudden, public move. And with his charming front, his handsome appearance and his engagement to Harry Potter, things were complicated now. The people liked him, they were buying his message. And honestly, so was Sirius, but that was another matter.

"It leaves me no other choice. We will have to simply attack." Dumbledore said, which was met with agreement. Sirius frowned, wondering if that wouldn't accomplish exactly the opposite of what they wanted.

"It doesn't matter what the public thinks now, they have been brain washed already by Voldemort. We have to take responsibility for those too weak to take responsibility for themselves. "

The rest of the meeting was spent planning their attack, which Sirius paid careful attention to. When the Order members had left, Sirius had every bit of information he needed to warn his new Minister.

* * *

Harry eyed the man before him suspiciously. And it was suspicious, you had to admit, Sirius Black suddenly showing up before Tom and claiming he had information from the Order for him. What had changed his allegiance so quickly? Was he attempting to double play them? His gaze shifted to Severus, who stood in the back, watching. Sirius had come with Severus, so he must be involved in his switch somehow.

"I assure you, My Lord, the information I have is genuine. You may enter my mind if you wish. I have nothing to hide." Sirius said, bowing his head to Tom. Said man reclined in the Minister's chair, his hand moving lazily over Harry's back who was perched lightly on the arm of the chair.

"I do believe you, Mr. Black. If only because I trust Severus. Indulge me though, why have you changed your allegiance?"

"I could no longer resist what my magic wanted. I have always been inclined to the Dark, and I decided to stop fighting it." Tom hummed in thought, gazing at him intensely, his eyes moving from Sirius and then back to Severus and then to Harry. He had a strange little smile on his face that worried Sirius slightly because the Dark Lord looked _amused_.

 _-Harry, love, I think our Severus has a lover.-_ He hissed, sending shivers down Sirius' spine, who was not accustomed to hearing parseltongue. He watched in confusion as Harry grinned at him, looking intensely amused.

 _-He certainly has strange tastes, but now that you mention it, I think you're right. So much sexual tension.-_ Harry answered. Sirius shifted uncomfortably, completely unaware that they were talking about him. He had a good guess that they were though, seeing as they made sure he couldn't tell what they were saying.

Tom turned back to Sirius and gestured for him to share his information. He looked unfazed by the fact that they were planning an attack despite being accepted by the people. He nodded, his hand returning to its lingering caress on Harry's back.

"This is helpful, and your loyalty and contributions will be noted, Black." He told him, dismissing both him and Severus.

Harry couldn't help but start laughing once they were both gone. Tom raised an eyebrow at him in question, his hand tightening on his hip slightly.

"It's just…Severus…I can't…" Harry managed, leaning against Tom as he laughed. Tom had to agree, pulling his joyful lover into his lap.

"Hm, yes. Severus doesn't strike me as a very affectionate man." He commented, his fingers running over Harry's thighs and stomach. He couldn't seem to control his hands around Harry, no matter how hard he tried. The need to touch him was irresistible. Harry sobered, trembling softly at his mate's touch.

"Then again, neither did you." He amended, leaning eagerly into the hand that cupped the side of his face. Tom smirked, pulling his mate forward.

 _-Oh, I can be very affectionate, Harry.-_ He breathed against his lips. Harry shuddered in delight, catching his lips in a deep kiss.

As they made love for the fourth time on the Minister's desk, Harry found his mate to be very affectionate, indeed.


	9. Victory

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I am crap at writing battle scenes and so I apologize for the pile of shit that is my fight scene. But, on the bright side, I did update finally, more sex, Severus/Sirius fluff, and only one more chapter until I complete this story!

“I’m sorry sir, but really, you have to listen to me, the Dark Lord protects him like he’s his own life. There’s no way I can get close enough to him.”

Dumbledore gazed at Draco, his old face devoid of any sort of understanding or compassion. How had this man tricked so many people into believing he was any sort of “grandfatherly” figure? Where the hell did they get the “twinkling” from? As far as Draco could see, Dumbledore could give Lord Voldemort a run for his money on the cruelty scales.

“I don’t think you’re taking this seriously enough, Draco, and honestly, I doubt you’ve sincerely tried. Perhaps you need something to motivate you? Perhaps you think it’s wise to fear the Dark Lord more than I?” Dumbledore asked, smiling in a way that sent shivers down Draco’s spine.

“N-no, sir.” He answered quickly, seeing that this was headed in a horrible direction. Dumbledore hummed in disagreement.

“Nevertheless… _crucio_.”

White hot, blinding pain seized Draco like a vice. He went down in half a second flat, writhing and screaming on the plush rug of the Headmaster’s office. When it was finally over, Draco lifted his teary eyes to gaze at Dumbledore. The man was looking at him calmly, as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened.

Hatred like fiendfyre blazed within Draco. He would kill this man, he would rip and tear and slice him apart until those horrid blue eyes fell out and that fake smile slid off his face.

“I expect Harry Potter to be dead by the end of tomorrow night. He is your responsibility when we attack the Dark Lord.”

 

* * *

 

“You seem calm about their plans for attack tomorrow, Tom”  Harry commented, rubbing firm circles into his lover’s back as he bent over papers at his desk. Minister’s desk or not, his neck was still killing him from the paperwork.

“Hm, that’s because I am.” Tom replied simply, shuffling a stack of papers into a neat pile and placing them to the side. He pulled the next stack over, flipped through them, scowled, and then threw them into the waste basket dismissively.

“It is rather presumptuous of them.” Harry mused, his fingers moving up to knead the knots from Tom’s neck. Tom groaned in appreciation, dropping his quill in favor in favor of leaning into his mate’s sure hands.

“I am hardly worried. They will attack, we will win, they will look like fools and life shall go on as it should.”

“I have every confidence in you, Tom.” Harry said softly, his fingers trailing up the sides of Tom’s neck teasingly. Tom hummed, turning his face toward Harry’s wandering fingers and catching one of them on his tongue. He sucked into his mouth, causing Harry to gasp and then moan as Tom’s scarlet eyes locked on his.

Tom let his finger slip from his mouth but caught his hand within his, turning the chair until he was facing Harry. He tugged him neatly into this lap and spun around, resting his lover’s back against the finished wood of the Minister’s desk.

Harry felt a hot, lazy wave of pleasure wash over him and knew that Tom was doing it on purpose. He gave into it all the same and weaved his hands into Tom’s hair. His mate rested his long hands on Harry’s thighs, rubbing gentle circles into the firm skin.

 _-Do you remember when I told you, so long ago, that I was afraid you would unhinge my soul?-_  Tom asked, his hands inching higher. Harry nodded, resting his forehead against Tom’s.

 _-I was right. Each day you tear me apart more and more. But it is so sweet, Harry. It is so sweet and I cannot get enough.-_ His hands tightened on his thighs, sliding back to grasp Harry’s arse and pull him close, nestling their growing erections next to one another.

 _-I am possessed by the thought of possessing you.-_ He said into Harry’s ear, the hissing syllables of Parseltongue coaxing Harry’s growing erection into fullness. Harry surged forward, pressing his open mouth against Tom’s neck and breathing in his intoxicating scent – expensive cologne, dark magic, and the overwhelming scent that said _mate_. The older man’s hips rolled up, pulling a whimper from Harry’s throat that only served to make Tom’s cock ache.

 _-You do possess me. Utterly and completely. Forever.-_ Harry promised, keening as Tom’s long fingers traced the outline of his desire through his trousers, his mouth wet and hot behind his ear as he sucked a bright red mark onto his mate.

In a daze of pleasure, Harry’s hands smoothed over the taught muscle of Tom’s arms, down his chest and into his lap, loosening the fastenings on his trousers and wrapping a hand around his cock. Tom bit down hard on his neck, his hips snapping sharply into Harry’s grasp. He could only bear a few perfect strokes before his patience wore thin.

Harry was lifted and spread out on the floor not moments later. His arms and legs splayed wantonly until he was covered by the heavy heat of Tom’s body and then they were wrapping and weaving, trying in vain to connect their bodies as they so desperately yearned to. Their bond pulled taut and shuddering between them, urging them closer and closer until they gasped with the need.

Tom bared his lover’s body, the clothes disappearing to the corners of the office in his haste. His lips followed where the clothes left, sucking and biting at his nipples until Harry was sobbing with it, dipping his tongue into his navel in a teasing promise. 

Harry’s hands shook with desire, but they still managed to pull Tom’s clothes away. He sighed in relief as bare skin met bare skin, the bond humming in approval. Their bodies rubbed sensuously together as Tom lowered, nestling his head between Harry’s thighs. He breathed soft puffs of air over Harry’s cock, moving away even as Harry strained upward. He continued ever lower, hooking Harry’s lean legs over his shoulders as he kissed the patch of skin over his lover’s entrance.

His tongue ventured lower, licking light circles over his mate’s twitching arse. Harry went taut, desperate whimpers punctuating each flicker and press of Tom’s tongue. He nearly sobbed as Tom pressed in deeply, licking the very inside of his lover. His legs tightened deliciously around Tom’s shoulders, followed by his hands in Tom’s hair.

 _-Please, Tom, please!-_ He gasped, tugging weakly at his hair. Trying to urge his lover up and inside of him. Tom obeyed, if only because he himself felt desperate to be inside him. He laid flush against Harry, his cock nestling between his arse and then slipping inside as if it were never meant to be anywhere else. 

They connected with a moan of contentment, Harry’s legs wrapping snuggly around Tom’s hips as they created a slow rhythm. A soft sort of flame was stoked in their bond, keeping their love making slow, but so hot they sweat with the effort.

 _-If I could do nothing else for the rest of my life, I would be satisfied. I would stay buried within you.-_ Tom hissed into his neck, pausing to grind hard into Harry’s prostate. Harry threw his head back, his fingers grabbing at Tom’s biceps. Tom followed the arched line of his body down to his nipples, pulling them between his teeth as he rolled repeatedly into Harry’s prostate.

Harry came spectacularly, clenching down and around Tom until he too fell, releasing deep into his mate. Their lips met for the first time since they had started, kissing and moaning as their orgasm swept over them, the bond quivering in pleasure.

 

* * *

 

 

“You did well with him.” Severus said as they settled on his couch, as if it almost pained him to admit it. Sirius only grinned as he sprawled over the couch, laying his head in Severus’ lap. He gazed up at Severus and the potion’s master’s chest seized at the look of affection on his face. How had he forgotten that Sirius could make him feel this way? As if he was…loved.

“Was that a compliment, Sev?” Sirius asked playfully. Severus’ face was sober as he traced the line of Sirius’ jaw and replied “yes.” Sirius’ face softened, his eyes searching Severus’ for signs of what he was feeling. It was always so hard to tell these days, but tonight he found no barriers between them. When he looked into Severus’ eyes, he saw the sixteen year old boy he had fallen in love with at Hogwarts. The soft, lovely boy who had held him close and whispered ‘I love you’.

Sirius reached up, tangling his fingers into the silky hair at the base of Severus’ neck. Severus leaned down as Sirius arched upward, their lips meeting with a sigh. They kissed gently, hesitantly, as if they were nervous teenagers all over again. Sirius could feel Severus trembling and so he sat up, pulling Severus to his side.

Severus’ face was open and vulnerable, looking at Sirius as if he were drowning. Sirius soothed him with a hand to his face, brushing his thumb gently over the swell of his cheekbone.

“I am so very much in love with you, Severus Snape.” He said, his thumb moving down and over Severus’ kiss-reddened mouth. To his surprise, Severus’ eyes filled with tears, though he blinked them away quickly and surged forward to take his lips again.

It was less hesitant now, but by no means rough like the time Sirius had appeared on his door step. It was neither the nervousness of a boy nor the bitterness of a jaded man. No, this was the kiss of a man who had, at least a little bit, healed his heart.

 

* * *

 

 

The next day felt like any other day to Harry. It was hard to get worked up about a battle that Tom was so completely disinterested in. Harry trusted his mate completely. If he said they would win, he believed they would. If Tom was making preparations at all, he had not told Harry about them yet.

He was walking across the lobby of the Ministry when Tom appeared, striding quickly in the other direction. Harry glanced at him and then saw forms appearing from the floo networks along the far wall. He snorted with laughter and turned around, walking back toward the way he came from.

“You didn’t even block the floo netwoks?” He asked his mate, who smirked at him as he tugged Wormtail, who Harry had just noticed, toward him. He pushed his sleeve up and pressed a finger to the mark on his left arm. Wormtail grimaced and stumbled as Tom pushed him away again.

“Why would I bother?” Tom asked, drawing his wand as his Death Eaters began to fill in around him. Harry moved to Tom’s side, drawing his wand as well but letting it hang casually at his side. Despite his dismissive nature, Harry felt Tom pull the bond snugly around them and suddenly they were of one mind.

It wasn’t like he had imagined. There were no distracting thoughts blaring in his head, instead he got hints and nudges of Tom’s intentions and feelings. He felt as if they were to engage in a duel they would move together and he would know which spells Tom would use before he used them. He could also feel Tom’s magic joining and flowing through him. They were twice as powerful like this, if not thrice. It felt comfortable, as if their thoughts and magic were always meant to be bound together like this.

But Dumbledore and the Order were coming closer, so Harry focused. There were not very many of them, and a large majority looked far too young to be facing an army of Death Eaters. Harry’s eyes rested on Sirius Black for just a moment, and then looked over the rest of them. He recognized some of them. Mad-Eye was hard to miss, and he saw Nymphadora Tonks as well as a large group of red-heads he knew to be the Weasleys. He also spotted Draco, who met his gaze steadily. He turned his attention back toward Dumbledore as he began to speak.

“This doesn’t have to end in bloodshed Tom, we could resolve this peacefully.” Harry rolled his eyes.

“I don’t believe we could, actually.” Tom replied simply.

“If you would just step down, and let us take Harry, all will be well.”

“Why in Merlin’s name would I do either of those things? I am Minister, and last I checked, a well-liked one. Harry here, is my betrothed, which he quite happy about, isn’t that right, Harry?”

“Extremely happy.” Harry agreed, smirking. Dumbledore looked at him sadly, shaking his head.

“My boy, you don’t have to do this. You would be safe with us.”

“You are incredibly thick for someone once called the Greatest Wizard of our Time.” Harry snapped.

“I thought I made myself clear the last time we met. I am not joining you and I never will. I belong with Tom.”

“He is only lying to you to keep you loyal, dear boy. He is not capable of love.”

“Ugh, he’s annoying Tom, can you please take care of him before I jump out a window?”

“Certainly, dear.” Tom said with an amused smile. He looked back at Dumbledore and gave a little sarcastic shrug.

“Harry doesn’t think we should negotiate, so I suppose I shall have to kill you.” Tom raised his wand and then suddenly the hall broke out into a blur of spells. The Order surged in front of Dumbledore, just as the Death Eaters closed in and around Tom and Harry. The pair moved as a unit, avoiding Draco and Sirius as they cut a path toward Dumbledore.

With the Death Eaters outnumbering the Order, it didn’t take very long to reach Dumbledore. They fought viciously, and Harry could see the shock on Dumbledore’s face as he realized that he and Tom were no longer an even match. He looked between them as he blocked and ducked away from their spells.

“You’ve really done it.” He said in bewilderment. Tom threw his head back and laughed, looking crazed with triumph.

“ _Yes_ , you old fool. I really did it. And you know what the best part is, _I really do love him_. It looks like I’ve beaten you on all fronts, Albus. I’ve got the power, and the boy. And really, the power tastes much sweeter with Harry. Where is your Gellert now, Albus? Was choosing the almighty Light side worth losing your love?” Dumbledore’s eyes widened and he stumbled backward, tripping and landing hard on his back. Tom and Harry started to close in on him but there was a blur of movement and then Draco was looming over Dumbledore, kicking his hand sharply to knock his wand away.

“My Lord, I do apologize for my intrusion, but after being tortured and manipulated by this man for so long, I can only ask for permission to kill him.” Draco said, glaring at Dumbledore with such hatred that Harry was taken aback.

“Do as you please, Draco. You have proved yourself very loyal. It is only fitting that I reward you.” Draco smiled horribly down at Dumbledore.

“This is for trying to make me kill Harry,” he said, slashing at his stomach, “and for threatening my family,” he slashed again, “and for insulting my Lord,” he slashed violently at his face, “and for torturing me, you horrible bastard.” He slashed again and again, even though Dumbledore had stopped moving a while ago. Tom stepped forward, and placed a firm hand on his shoulder.

“He’s dead.” He said, and then he turned and spoke louder.

“Your leader is dead!” Movement stilled, all eyes moving to rest on the bloody form of Albus Dumbledore. The Order retreated, significantly smaller in number. They all stared at Draco in horror, and then at Sirius when he stayed at Severus’ side.

“You have been defeated, but you are great wizards. I will offer you a chance to join me before the Aurors come to arrest you for trespasses against the Minister and the Ministry of Magic. Will anyone join me?”

Percy, Charlie, Fred and George Weasley stepped forward, to the horror of their mother, who burst into tears. After that, no one else moved and Tom nodded. Aurors, seemingly from nowhere, rushed forward and took the remaining Order away.

Tom turned toward Harry, his hand reaching out to cup his mate’s face.

“You fought brilliantly.” He said gently. Harry smiled and kissed his palm.

“You mean we fought brilliantly, Tom. There is no you and I anymore. Just us.”

 


End file.
